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A Daughter of the North 


Author of "Added Upon," "The Castle Builder," 

"Piney Ridge Cottage, "Story of Chester 

Lawrence," etc. 

With Five Drawings by C. E. Tillotson 

^ / 5^ ^^ 

Copyright by Nephi Anderson 

*' Nevertheless, neither is the man without the 

Woman, neither the woman without the man, in 

the Lord. " 

I Cor. 11:11. 

Table of Contents 

Chapter Page 

I. The Regatta 5 

II. The Ball at Brevik 13 

III. Heimstad 25 

IV. Picnic and Politics 37 

V. A Little Love and Theology ... 43 

VI. The Grace of God 53 

VII. An Overburdened Mind .... 64 

VIII. Atelia's Temptation 72 

IX. Norseman Blood 78 

X. The Mormon Marriage System . . 89 
XL Elder Larsen Has Visitors ... 96 

XII. Atelia Says, 'Tes— But— " ... 104 

XIII. Halvor and Atelia attend Conference 115 

XIV. The President Talks on Love . . 127 

XV. Atelia Deals with Three Situations 141 

XVI. Atelia's World 154 

XVII. Things to Be Preserved and Things 

to Be Destroyed 170 

XVIIL Up the Coast 181 

XIX. A Visit to Saga-Land 189 

XX. Atelia Sails Another Race . . . 204 

XXI. One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six- 

All Here 218 

XXII. Elder Larsen Gets Even With Uncle 

Sande 228 

XXIII. Christmas Eve at Strand .... 240 

XXIV. Halvor and Atelia Begin Right . * . 254 


Facing page 

Frontispiece *'Norden" 

A Land of 'the Mountain and the flood' . . 27 
"Our waterfalls * * * in rugged beauty 

are not surpassed" 37 

A few rods away stood a 'Stabur' .... 56 
The white walls of Oscar's Hall gleamed 

from the green setting 120 

A fleet of fishing boats * * * made for the 

fishing grounds 204 

A Daughter of the North. 


|T was an ideal day for the sailing. The 
choppy waves of the sea danced merrily 
before the North Sea breeze. The sky 
was filled with flying clouds, soft and 
white, and the deep blue beyond showed in 
patches of changeable sizes and shapes. 

The Norwegian coast stood out bold against 
the sea and sky. The dark green pines reached 
to the water's edge, save where a rocky head- 
land jutted out from the forest and met the 
sea with a wall of solid rock. A few islands 
broke the coast line to the north, but othenvise 
there was a clear sweep of the vision to where 
the sea and the sky met on the horizon. 

The to\\Ti of Langesund lies at the entrance 
to that beautiful sheet of water, Skien Fjord, 
about one hundred miles from Christiania. The 
little town was now decked in hoHday attire, for 
the annual meeting of the national regatta was 
to be held at the city of Brevik, a few miles 
up the fjord, and the races were to be sailed 


on the course outside the harbor of Langesund. 

The boats began to arrive on the course early. 
They came from the north coast and the south 
coast; but most of them, having arrived the 
day before and passed the night at Brevik, now 
came saihng down the fjord, a long procession 
of white-winged boats. There were at least 
a hundred of them, large and small, gathered 
at the starting point. Excursion steamers were 
crowded with sight-seers; tugs were converted 
into passenger boats; fishing smacks were now 
pleasure boats. Everything that would float on 
the ruffled water outside the harbor was pressed 
into service that day. 

One of the last of the boats that sped down 
the waters of the fjord to the open sea was 
a graceful craft, painted white and bearing the 
name of the "Swan." Captain Halvor Steen 
sat at the helm. A steamer-load of people cheered 
him as he passed, as an expression of admiration 
for the young man, who was well known among 
his pleasure-faring countrymen. He waved his 
cap in return as his boat turned gracefully in 
towards the starting line. 

The first gun from the judges' boat was 
fired just as the "Swan" arrived. This signal 
was for the boats in class one to get ready. 
The "Swan" belonged to class two, so she had 
plenty of time to swing around into position. 

Only one boat of class one crossed the line, 
so no race was declared. The interest now 


centered on class two, in which there were five 
entries. They were maneuvering to get into 
position, and when the signal was given, four 
boats crossed the line nearly abreast. 

The sailing was over a trianglar course. The 
first angle was against the wind, and the boats 
immediately began to tack, which soon separated 
them so that each had free space to the first 
turning point. 

Halvor Steen and his crew were confident of 
winning. The "Swan" had never yet disappointed 
them. She was now behaving splendidly. The 
wind and the sea were favorable to them, and 
they were well in the lead. Half way to the 
first turn, it was plainly seen that there were 
but three boats in the race, — the "Swan," the 
"Virga" and a blue-painted boat which had 
slipped over the line a little late and had tacked 
away from the "Swan," but which was now well 
in front. 

"Halvor," asked Sven, the "Swan's" sailing 
master, "what boat is that coming along third? 
Her next tack will bring her well up." 

Captain Steen leveled his glass at the blue 
boat. He gave a surprised whistle, lowered his 
glass, adjusted it, and looked again. 

"It's the Blue Bird,' " said he. 

"No !" 

"Yes, it's the *Blue Bird,' and Froken Held- 
man herself is at the helm." He handed the 
glass to his friend. 


"You're right. Didn't you know?" 

"I had no idea she was going to race this 
year. In fact, she told me herself that she had 
given up the sea. Well, well, Sven, we'll have 
a run for our money." 

The "Swan" turned into the eye of the wind, 
and her sails for an instant flapped loosely, then 
as the wind filled the canvas, she sped on. One 
more tack ought to bring them to the turn. The 
"Virga" was close in, and the "Blue Bird" now 
crossed the track of the "Swan" not far behind. 
Both crews cheered as they passed, Froken Held- 
man waving her kerchief in response to Captain 
Steen's lifted cap. 

And now they all steered for the turn. The 
"Swan" led, the "Virga" was a close second, and 
the "Blue Bird" followed as third. They all 
rounded gracefully, and adjusting their sails to 
the new course, they sped on their way. The 
breeze continued strong, the sails pulled hard, 
the tilted bows cut the water like knives. 

The three boats kept vefy nearly their relative 
position during the hour it took them to reach 
the second turn. Once around that, and the wind 
was perfect for a swift race to the finish. 
Captain Steen feared this last leg of the triangle, 
for he knew what the "Blue Bird" could do in 
such a wind and sea. So he looked carefully to 
his own boat, seeing that every rope was in place 
and that every inch of canvas was doing its 
work. With the spectators, the interest was 


now high. Most of the slow-moving craft steered 
to the finish to see the outcome. 

Halvor Steen turned his glass oftener to the 
"Blue Bird" than to the one which was giving 
him the closer race. Froken Heldman was still 
at the tiller, where, no doubt, she would stay- 
to the finish; for all who knew her knew also 
that no man there could better fill the place. 

The *'Swan" rounded the second buoy, and with 
a big curve and not a flap of sail, she pointed 
her nose to the final goal. The "Virga" did 
the same. Just as the *'Blue Bird" got well 
around the buoy, there sprang out from her mass 
of canvas, another sail, big and w^hite like a 
magic blossom. The wind caught it and shaped 
it into a bulging form, which tuged at the 
rigging and was in danger of wrecking the small 
craft. The boat keeled, she dipped till the lee- 
ward deck touched the water. With a bound she 
rushed through the sea. A white w^ave curved 
at her bow, and a shower of spray drenched the 
deck. Slowly, as if reluctantly, she righted her- 
self, and then could be seen a row of men 
clinging to the windward rail to act as ballast. 
The boat passed the **Virga," and was fast 
lessening the distance between herself and the 

Captain Steen saw what the skipper of the 
"Blue Bird" had done when it was nearly too 
late. "More canvas," he shouted to his men. 
Crowd it on. Quick, men ;" and the men obeyed. 



The "Virga" was certainly out of the race. 
Her skipper tried to put on more sail, but he 
had to take it in again, at which his boat dropped 
hopelessly in the rear. The crowds on near-by 
steamers cheered, and the excitement ran high. 
Now the race was between Captain Steen and 
Froken Heldman, and the fact that a daughter 
of the north was giving the captain the race of 
his life, added greatly to the zest of the sport. 
There was some danger too in this crowding on 
canvas to the limit, for who could tell just where 
the limit was, and after that, what then? 
Captain Steen looked hurriedly at his rival, now 
not many feet away, and his fear of defeat was 
mixed with admiration for the girl. She sat 
with firm hand on the tiller. Her cap had 
fallen from her head, and her long brown hair 
was flying in the wind. Her eyes shone, her 
cheeks glowed, her lips were set. She might 
have been a beautiful water-nymph instead of 
the Atelia Heldman he knew so well. Halvor 
Steen's wonder grew with his admiration. 

But there was no time for such thoughts now. 
If he was to win this race he must bend every 
energy to his work. The "Blue Bird" was slowly, 
but surely gaining on him. 

"Can we stand a little more canvas?" asked 
Captain Steen of his sailing master. 

"Not another thread." 

"Then I fear we're beaten." 

The two boats were beautiful things to see. 


The ''Blue Bird" in making her spurt had taken 
the windward side, but she was keeping far 
enough away from her rival not to take her 

The breeze was splendid, a strong steady blow 
which occasionally tipped the larger waves with 
white. The clouds had become darker, and there 
were signs of rain in the west. White sails 
dotted the water in every direction, for there 
were the third and fourth class boats taking 
part in their own races. 

Attentiion, however, for the time was centered 
in the two big incoming boats. In fifteen or 
twenty minutes they would cross the line, and 
which would be first, was not easy to say. The 
''Blue Bird" to all appearances was still a few 
feet behind, but the fact that she was slowly 
but surely gaining meant much at the final. The 
two crews worked with every nerve and muscle 
tense. Though the two boats were within 
speaking distance, not even a glance was ex- 
changed between the crews. 

Steadily, and without the flutter of a thread, 
the two racers cleave the water. Every man is 
still; there is no time for change or adjustment 
now, even if any such were thought of. The 
half-mile or so of the course remaining must 
be sailed without the loss of a foot. With delicate 
skill Captain Steen and Froken Heldman move 
the rudders of their boats as if holding the reins 
of steeds that must win a race. Now they are 


even, racing nose to nose; now the ''Blue Bird" 
creeps ahead of the **Swan" inch by inch during 
the last quarter of a mile. On they come, steady, 
swift, beautiful as things of life. They are near 
the line, — they cross, the "Blue Bird" nearly 
half a length ahead. 

The crowd of spectators, waiting in silent 
expectancy during the final moments, now breaks 
into tremendous cheering. Such a ringing of 
bells and blowing of whistles was never heard 
before, at any sailing of the national regatta. 



IFTY or more sail boats lay at anchor 
all in a row at Brevik's west wharf. Not 

^^ a ripple disturbed their perfect repose. 
Their sails were tightly furled. Not a hght 
gleamed from any deck ; they were as if wrapped 
in peaceful sleep, resting from the exciting 
exertions of the day. 

The Norwegian summer night is never very 
dark, and so this evening the stars in the 
clearing sky, struggling against the light of 
day, made a poor showing. The little town of 
Brevik, its houses clustered on its rocky hills, 
shone with the light of lamps. Many people 
walked back and forth along its narrow, crooked 

A hoarse whistle was hear from the bay, and 
the crowds moved toward the wharf. A large, 
well-lighted steamer came in and lay alongside 
the pier. Across the gang-plank streamed a 
merry company of visitors to the town to partici- 
pate in the final ceremonies attendant on the 
sailing of the national regatta. There was 
hurrying of officials, greeting of friends, talk 
and laughter. Everybody seemed happy and 


Hotel Nord faces one of Brevik's broadest 
streets. At the rear of the hotel, next to the 
beach and a pier extending out into the water, 
there is a narrow strip of park. Hotel Nord's 
ball room, where the events of the evening were 
to center, opened on to this little garden. 
This room was not a protentious one. The usual 
board and paneled walls were decorated with 
flags and evergreens. Three heavy chandehers 
filled with lamps hung from the ceiling. The 
platform in one end of the room was adorned 
with a portrait of the King, draped in colors; 
and prominently among the flags was the pen- 
nant of the victorious "Blue Bird." 

The people were slow in arriving; when they 
did come, they gathered into groups to exchange 
greetings and discuss the events of the day. 
Just as the musicians were tuning-up their in- 
struments, a gray-haired man in uniform 
mounted the platform and rapped for order. 
Most of the people found seats, and conversation 

"Ladies and gentlemen," said the official, "the 
committee on prize awards wish to make their 
announcements before dancing is engaged in." 

After reviewing the day's races, he announced 
the prizes and the prize winners. He began with 
the smaller boats, so that he might work up to 
a fitting climax with the statement that a true 
daughter of the North, the daughter of his old 
friend, Captain Heldman, had won the highest 


honors of the day. The crowd grew still at 
this, and taking advantage as well as courage 
by the attitude of his audience, he went on paying 
a glowing tribute to all the daughters, and all 
the mothers of the North. 'They are capable, 
and they are worthy," said he, **to be our equals 
in every good thing. After a while, all you good 
women will cast your ballot with your brothers, 
and some of you will sit with them in the law 
making body of our land." 

''Hear, hear. Hurrah!" 

"Listen, all of you ladies," continued the 
speaker after the tumult had subsided; "let me 
give you this bit of advice: when that time 
comes, when you may be matched with your 
brothers for high honors, win your race as fairly 
as Froken Atelia Heldman has won hers this 

"We will, we will!" 

"Ladies and gentlemen, one more announce- 
ment: Froken Heldman this afternoon waited 
upon this committee and stated that she would 
gladly accept the prize cup, but that we were 
to divide the money which she fairly won be- 
tween the Sailor's Home at Bredesund and the 
Fisherman's Fund of Brevik." 

The speaker ended and came down from the 
platform amid the cheers of a large company. 
Then, just as the musicians again made ready 
to begin. Captain Heldman entered the ball room 


with his daughter Atelia on his arm. They re- 
ceived an ovation. 

Captain Heldman was over seventy, and his 
steps were not strong, though this evening he 
tried to bring back his sturdy sea-legs of younger 
days. His weather-beaten face wore a pleasant 
smile as he marched into the hall with the prize 
winner on his arm. And as friends gathered 
around them with their congratulations, he was 
very, very happy. 

And what a glorious picture that prize winner 
made that evening as she walked across the 
floor with her gray-haired sire at her side ! Tall, 
taller than he, she seemed; straight as a pine 
in Norway's woods, with a step as light and 
graceful as an open, natural Hfe among the hills 
and seas of the North could make. 

There are two distinct types of beauty among 
the daughters of the north. The story-tellers 
usually take the one with golden hair and blue 
eyes for their heroine, making her the sole type 
of northern beauty. Therein are they mistaken. 
There are girls in Norway of pure Norse blood, 
and they are not a few, whose dark hair, brown 
eyes, and ruddy cheeks and lips will compare 
favorably with the brunette beauty in any 
southern clime. Of this latter type was Atelia 
Heldman. The red in her cheeks shone from a 
skin clear and beautiful, but not light in com- 
plexion. Her eyes were of a soft brown shade. 
Her head was covered with a mass of dark hair. 


nearly black. The perfect contour of chin and 
lips and cheeks added not only to beauty of 
face, but gave to it that quality hard to describe, 
but suggested by such words as lovely or sweet. 

''Come, father," said Atelia, " you must sit 
down now. Here is a comfortable seat;" and 
she led him across the floor to where Halvor 
Steen was sitting. The old man caught Halvor 
by the hand as if he was indeed glad to meet 
him. With a merry twinkle in his eye, he con- 
gratulated him on making such a fine race, 
adding by the way of consolation that coming 
out second best in a contest with Froken Held- 
man is not so bad. 

Halvor gallantly admitted that what the Cap- 
tain said was true. 'To be second best, one 
must necessarily be near to the best," he com- 
mented, "and to be near to Froken Heldman is 
to partake of some of the glory which surrounds 
her, eh. Captain?" 

'True, my boy; congratulate yourself." 

'I am trying to," said Halvor with a smile. 

Then Captain Heldman launched out in a 
nautical explanation of the merits of the two 
boats and why the "Blue Bird" was the faster. 
The young man listened for a time, then turned 
to Ateha and asked her for the next dance. 

"I dance very poorly," she replied, "but if 
you will help me, — I suppose I ought to try." 

They glided on to the floor. Ah, very fitting 
and somewhat romantic, thought the company 




when they saw the couple together. As for 
Halvor, he had a feeling that it was useless to be 
angry with such a creature; had she not just 
now admitted her dependence on him, and there 
was some comfort in that. But why had she 
entered the race? Why had she been so deter- 
mined to beat him? He had asked himself the 
question a score of times. As she smiled up into 
his face in the dance, especially when she made 
a miss-step, he w^ondered still more what lay in 
that little head behind those beaming eyes. 

After the dance, he led her out into the 
garden. Under the trees nearest the hall were 
lanterns and tables about which some were 
sitting, eating and drinking. 

"Let us go down to the water," suggested 

"With pleasure," replied Atelia; "the ball- 
room is warm, and dancing is really a task." 

They walked on in silence down to the pier, 
out to its end, and sat down on a seat by the 
flag-staff. The night wind was blowing, and 
Halvor adjusted his companion's wrap across 
her shoulders. The waves lapped the timbers 
of the wharf. A belated fishing smack was 
beating up against the wind. The stars shone 
more brightly above the pine-clad hills across 
the fjord. 

"It's beautiful," said Atelia softly. 

Halvor was silent, but his companion went 
on as if she did not notice his mood. She talked 


of the wind and the weather and many other 
inconsequential things for a time, but her pur- 
pose seemed to fail. 

"Halvor," she asked, "you are angry with me ?" 

He looked away across fjord and hills as 
though not willing to risk the light of her eyes. 

**Why did you sail your boat against me?" 
he said at last. 

"I wanted another race — just one; Fm through 

"You told me six months ago that you were 
through with racing." 

"Yes; but there was a reason, a special reason 
— Now Halvor, don't be angry, — I — " 

"A reason? What do you mean? Why did 
you stay out of the race until the last minute? 
Why did you make such extraordinary efforts 
to win, even to the risking of yourself and crew 
with that balloon jib of yours? You are known 
up and down the coast as the equal of any 
sailor in your knowledge of handling a boat. 
Why this added honor?" 

Atelia laughed at him. "Why, Halvor, I didn't 
think you would take it so to heurt to be beaten 
by me." 

"Well, of course I shouldn't, under ordinary 
conditions; but I did just this once so wish 
to win this race. I had a special reason, and 
here you came — " 

"And spoiled it— too bad— I'm sorry." 

"No, you're not sorry." 


"Halvor," she laid her hand on his arm," I'm 
sorry that you are vexed, but I'm not sorry 
I beat you in the race. I wanted to beat you. 
I planned to beat you. I too, had a special 
reason for doing what I have done." 

*'Why, what can that be?" he asked in some 
surprise at her frank statement. 

"I, as well as you, may have reasons for not 
telHng just now; but this I want you to believe 
of me, I wouldn't injure you for the world. I 
want you to believe this." 

"I don't know what to believe." 

"Believe that I am your friend, whether it 
looks that way or not." 

"I never was much of a hand at blind belief." 
Atelia arose, and turned her head away. The 
dance music came wailing on a breeze to them, 
and they caught the sound of gaity from the 
ball room. "I must go back to father," she said. 
He slipped his hand under her arm as they 
walked back. *Torgive me," he said, "for being 
such a churl. You had just as much right to 
sail and win the race as anybody. Vm like a 
silly boy that cries when beaten." 

"Don't say that. I know — I can appreciate — " 
"And here I am monopolizing all your time, 

when every captain in the fleet will want to 

dance with you." 

"I want to escape the captains but get to 
father," she said. "How shall I do it?" 


"Here, sit by this table and Til bring him 
out. Then we'll have something to eat." 

They secured a table in a protected comer, 
and in a short time Halvor returned with 
Captain Heldman, who, after scolding his daugh- 
ter good-naturedly for her neglect of him and 
her host of admirers in the ball room, sipped 
his coffee contentedly. ''This reminds me," he 
began, and then followed one of his stories 
when he was a young man. He had some 
interesting tales to tell of adventures on sea and 
land, for he had been around the world a good 
many times in his life. 

"I humbly beg your pardon for intruding, but 
I knew no other way to get to speak to you," 
said a young man, as he approached the group. 

"Welcome, Hr. Larsen," replied Captain Held- 
man, "we're glad to see you. Here, sit down 
with us." 

The others also welcomed the new arrival 

"I had to use my American tact, or 'cheek' 
as you would call it to get by the official door- 
keeper, but I made it, you see." 

"You said you had business with the prize 
winner. Is there an American— wealthy of 
course — who wants to buy the racing yacht that 
won the regatta, eh, Larsen?" asked the captain. 

"Well, hardly that ; but really I am intruding— 
I merely wanted to find out when you were 
going to Heimstad. You remember you said I 



was to go with you, but no definite time was set. 

"That's right. AteHa, when are we going 
home? Fm ready any time now." 

"We have a number of appointments to fill, 
and then I am ready. Two or three days at the 
most," replied the girl. 

"And how did you come to Brevik?" continued 
the captain. "I'll wager you came to see the 


Hr. Larsen laughed away the idea. 

"Did you see the race?" asked Atelia eagerly. 

"I saw the race." 

Captain Heldman slapped the young man on 
the- back. "Good for you! Wasn't it great? 
Don't you think Hr. Steen here should feel 
greatly honored in being beaten as he was?" 

"Well, there is something to that," agreed Hr. 

"Here, waiter, bring us a soda-pop." Then after 
the order had been taken, the old man went on 
in his most bantering, good-natured mood, "Think 
of it — a preacher, a missionary going to boat 


'But father," began Atelia, as if coming to the 

"Oh, there is no apology needed," said Hr. 
Larsen. "I went to the races because I wanted 
to see them. Of course, the special attraction 
was that I knew our friend, Hr. Steen here was 
to take part — I had no idea that Froken Heldman 
also was to sail; — and let me tell you Captain 


Heldman that the religion I preach is one that 
does not bar manly sport and innocent pleasure. 
At home, I was the captain of a base-ball team. 
All that is good and true and beautiful belongs 
to my relgion, and never yet have I seen any- 
thing more beautiful than that finish between 
the ^Swan' and the 'Blue Bird.'" 

The waiter brought another bottle and glass. 
"And here you see/' continued Hr. Larson, "a 
man who likes clean sport but doesn't like coffee 
nor beer nor wine. Thanks for the soda-pop; 
and here's to the winner, — and the gallant loser, 
— and the grand old captain!" 

The ball went on in full swing. Now and 
then, gentlemen as they passed by, paused to 
exchange greetings and to express congratula- 
tions. Some of them looked as if they would 
like to ask Froken Heldman for a dance, but 
a lack of responsiveness in her prevented them, 
and they went on their way. 

'*Hr. Larsen," asked Hr. Steen, "where are 
you staying here in Larvik?" 

"With a friend of mine, Brother Isaksen; and 
he's a most interesting man. As he is an old 
resident of the town, he knows its history well. 
Do you know, I learned from him that Brevik 
was once the headquarters of our mission in 
Norway. That was in the beginning of our work 
in this country. Some of the first elders were 
seamen, and a number of them bought one of 
the best and swiftest pilot boats in Norway, and 


fitted it up for their purpose. They named it 
"Zions L0ve," and for many years it was used 
in transporting missionaries from place to place 
in this country and in Denmark, says Brother 
Isaksen." They had some stirring times in 
those days. 

"I should like to have sailed with them," said 
Atelia, as she, listening, leaned over the table. 

*' A true daughter of the nor th/' remarked her 

Before the ball closed, these four left. It was 
time, said Atelia, that her father should be in 
bed. Hr. Larsen bade the Captain good night 
at the door of his lodgings. Hr. Steen and Froken 
Heldman lingered a few moments, then as they 
parted, she held out her hand and asked: 

'Am I forgiven?" 

'Yes; am I?" 


ORWAY is certainly a land of "the moun- 
tain and the flood;" and among all 
its craggy mountains, pine-clad hills, 
green valleys, and blue lakes, no pros- 
pect is more beautiful than that of the 
valley of the Thorvand on the borders of 
Telemarken. A few miles steaming from the 
city of Skien brings the charms of the district 
into full view. A system of canals and locks 
connects the chain of lakes for a hundred miles 
into the uplands of Telemarken. A small but 
elegantly furnished steamer passes daily along 
this inland water route from the seaport, then 
climbing by means of the locks over waterfalls, 
through rivers, across deep blue lakes, up, up 
to the very base of glacier-clad mountains. 

A few days after the regatta and the ball at 
Brevik, Captain Heldman, his daughter Atelia, 
and Hr Larsen sat on the deck of this steamer. 
The captain was warmly dressed to protect him 
from the cool winds from, the mountains, but 
Froken Ateha was clad in her cool summer 
attire. Presently, the captain becoming drowsy, 
an easy chair was drawn up, and he went to 
sleep in it. Other groups of people under the 










awning were playing cards, eating and drinking. 

''Hr. Larsen, asked Atelia, "what would these 
good people around us think and say if they 
knew with whom I was in such close conver- 
sation ?" 

"They would be greatly alarmed at your safety, 
no doubt. It's a good thing that the fabulous 
horns do not grow on the young Mormons.'* 

"Hush, don't say 'Mormon' so loudly. Those 
people over there know what part I took in the 
recent saihng, and I suppose they are talking 
about us." 

"Then we'll talk about the scenery, which is 
here worth talking about." 

"All right. Over on that hill there is a cave. 
Take my glass and find it. Do you see it?" 


"Well, in olden times when monks and nuns 
lived here, worship was conducted in that 
cave. What out-of-the-way and romantic places 
those reHgionists had! Over there on that point 
is another old church, and on those distant hills 
to the left is where two Frenchmen, in 1870, 
ahghted from a balloon in which they had 
escaped from Paris thirteen hours before." 

The steamer swung around a curve of the 
river and into Lake Thorvand. The shrill whistle 
awoke the captain from his dose, and he got 
up preparatory to going ashore. The boat soon 
lay up to a landing where quite a flock of people 
had gathered. They had come to welcome home 



from her victory their own Froken Atelia. The 
women in their picturesque dress, the men in 
their ugly brown and drab, the boys and girls 
shouting their welcomes made quite an animated 
scene. Hr. Larsen led the Captain down the 
plank to the pier, Atelia following with her 
wraps. The men shook the arrivals by the hand, 
the women and girls courtsied, and the boys 
lifted their caps. The baggage was soon loaded 
on a two-wheeled cart, and as the house was 
not far away, the three home-comers with their 
attendants followed up the road. 

Heimstad house stood on the southern slope of 
the hill facing the lake. It was a large wooden 
structure, painted white. Captain Heldman's 
forefathers, over a hundred years ago, had placed 
the solid timbers in the main building, and they 
stood their today as firmly as ever. Additions 
had been made by wings on both sides, and the 
present owner had build a wide portico in front 
after the style of houses in warmer climes. This 
portico marked Heimstad for miles around. 

Along the gentle slope of the hill some distance 
from the house were the bams and stables, and 
a little further on the houses of the tenants. 
Close by at the rear of the main building stood 
an odd-looking structure. It was built of curious 
timbers, the corners, the cornice, the door and 
window posts being carved into strange, fantastic 
figures. The upper story projected on all sides 
over the lower. Moss-covered stones held the 

/v3»-,5> ^ 


boards on the roof in place. This was the old 
"stabur*' or storehouse which because of its 
picturesqueness Captain Heldman had left stand- 
ing when he removed many of the other close 
adjuncts of the old *'gaard." 

'*My mother, and hers, and hers again, back 
until it is lost in the myths of the past,'' explained 
Captain Heldman to his visitor, "went to that 
*stabur' for food for their households. Some went 
with light steps because the store was ample, 
others with breaking hearts because of its 
meagerness; for our old land has seen its ups 
and downs, I tell you friend Larsen. The old 
'stabur' as a reminder of the past is sacred to 
our family, and we would not think to lay a 
desecrating hand on one of its venerable, weather- 
beaten boards." 

A broad, grassy slope stretched from the 
house to the waters of Thorvand. On one side 
the glass of a conservatory gleamed in the sun; 
close by was a garden containing strawberries, 
raspberries and the usual vegetables. On the 
other side of the lawn were walks through a 
grove of pine and birch. Above the house the 
forest extended to the top of the hill, but in 
all other directions were fields of hay and grain. 

On top of the hill a wooden tower overlooked 
the forest. The Norwegian always wants some 
outlook. If there is no high hill or nearby swell- 
ing above the common level, or some rocky peak 
reaching above the forest on which one may 



climb to view the wider prospect, then he builds 
a tower of timbers for the purpose. As Atelia 
Heldman and Hr. Larsen, on the afternoon of 
the next day after their arrival, climbed up into 
this tower, the visitor was at once charmed and 
surprised at what he saw. Heimstad was really 
located on a peninsula of the lake whose waters 
gleamed on three sides. Away in the far dis- 
tance the lofty Dovre Mountains lay dim and 
blue against the sky. Nearer, the dark green 
forest reached to the Thorvand and reflected 
itself in the placid waters of the lake. Still nearer 
were the fields. At their feet the pine-tops 
gently waved. 

Hr. Larsen took off his hat, pushed back his 
hair, and stood in silent contemplation as if he 
wanted the beauty of the scene to sink deep 
into his soul. His companion seated herself and 
looked at him with a quiet smile. Then, after 
a time, she asked: 

"WhaNo you think of it?" 

'Think, — yes, think is a good word, but feel 
is a better one. I feel lifted up, enlarged, — 
it's hard to explain, but it's — it's — I'll give it up." 

Atelia laughed merrily. There was a small 
rustic table in the center of the floor space. 
Hr. Larsen placed his hat on this table and 
seated himself opposite the young woman. She 
was just as beautiful, just as charming, and 
made him feel just as good as did the farther 
away prospect of land and water. Think, then. 


of the combined effect on the sensative soul 
of a young man of this picture of animated 
youth and beauty with its setting! 

*'Do you know," said he after a moment of 
silence and readjustment of his thoughts, "when- 
ever I am in the presence of beautiful scenery 
I am filled with a feeling of worship, a feehng 
of prayer. My home in Utah is near the high 
mountains. When a boy I herded cows up in 
the canyons, and many a time when I was alone 
with the silence of the hills about me, I have 
kneeled in the shelter of some tree or rock and 
prayed to God. Also later, when I thought I 
had deep troubles, I would go up in the hills 
alone to seek consolation." 

Atelia's eyes shone with tears as she 
Hstened to the young man. She, too, had sought 
the hills, and many a prayer had been sent to 
the Author of all this beauty around her, from 
^this very tower-top. When she was younger, 
the spirit of worship had brooded in her heart 
in a confused sort of way. She could not then 
have analyzed her feehngs or intelligently told 
what they were. A daughter of the north she had 
always been, and the wild sea of the coast, the 
still waters of the lakes and fjords, the pine-clad 
hills of her home-land had nourished her soul and 
helped to make her what she was. But there 
had been much confusion, also, within her heart, 
as to the meaning of her emotional life, until 
one day about a year ago this young man from 


America, Hr. Waldemar Larsen, had come to 
them, and somehow he had brought a "key of 
knowledge" which had unlocked many mysteries 
and had explained much that had been dark 
and perplexing. 

*'One other thought also comes to me when 
I see the beauty of this earth which the Lord 
has created," said the young man. 

*'Yes, what is that?" 

"Why, I think that the beauty without should 
always find a counterpart within the soul of those 
who live amid such lovely environment. How 
can an ugliness within stand the pressure of 
such beauty without? I like to think that the 
immensity of the fairness without will in time 
absorb, as it were, the little meanness within, 
on the principle of osmotic action, as explained 
in our text books on science." 

"What a fancy ! I'll warrant you haven't found 
your fine theory to work out in fact. Here in 
Heimstad, for instance — " 

"I have found my best verification." 

"Hr. Larsen!" 

The afternoon waned as they sat there talking. 
The sun as it neared the horizon made gild and 
shadow in shifting confusion. The smoke of 
the steamer on lake Thorvand could be seen 
behind the hill. The distant low of cattle and 
the faint tinkle of sheep's bells came to them 
in their perch above the trees. And yet they 


"Hr. Steen was very much hurt over your 
action in the boat race, I imagine, ''said the 
young man. 

"Yes; I fear he was, but, but I had a purpose 
in it." 

"A purpose to win the race, of course." 

"Something more, something other than that; 
but it was fooHsh of me. I should have kept 
out and let him win; but, — it was great fun." 

"He couldn't help talking to me about it. He 
seemed to think that a victory at the race would 
have helped him to get the political nomination 
he is seeking, but I can't see how it would." 

"Yes; I know how he feels; and, and for that 
reason I entered the race to beat him." 

"What! why? — but I have no business to ask." 

"Hr. Larsen, I'm going to make a confession" 
— she stopped, while her face reddened with a 
confused blush. "Perhaps I ought not; but you're 
my friend, and I do want to tell somebody." 

"If I can help you in any way — " 

"Yes, you can by not scolding me too much. 
Listen. When Hr. Steen was here about two 
weeks ago, we joined a party of picnicers on an 
outing to 'Storfossen.' We went by steamer to 
Kilo, then by wagon to the falls. You've never 
been there. Well, you should go. Our waterfalls 
have not the volume of your American ones, 
but in rugged beauty they are not suii)assed. 
While we were in camp by 'Storfossen' a Gypsy 
fortune teller came to us and wanted to tell 


our fortune. Some of us ventured, and there 
was the usual lot of foolishness. When she 
took Hr. Steen's hand, she looked at it closely, 
then she said: 

" This gentleman has political aspirations.* 

*'We all laughed at her happy guess, which 
was not so shrewd, after all, for one with sharp 
ears who had spent half an hour in our company. 

"Will he be elected?' asked somebody. 

*The old woman paused and muttered some- 
thing to herself; then she said: 

" 'I see a fleet of sailing boats. There is a 
race. You are in it.' 


" 'The outcome of the race will determine the 
outcome of other things,' said the woman as 
she hobbled away with her fees. We all made 
merry of the whole thing, but Hr. Steen must 
have put a private interpretation on her words 
and thought it meant his political success. How- 
ever, there are other things than politics that 
have an 'outcome,' Hr. Larsen." 

'Yes; go on." 

'Hr. Steen is aiming high in his political 
career, which of course, is a worthy thing in 
any man. His heart is very much set on success 
in that direction, to the exclusion, I fear of 
other good things. I have tried to get him 
interested in the gospel as you teach it, but 
without success as yet. Now, I was foolish 
enough to also think of the gypsy's prediction; 



and as I thought it would be better for Hr. Steen 
not to win the boat race, I, at the last moment 
entered, and you know the result." 

**I can't quite yet see your point." 

''Never mind." She arose, looked out over the 
darkening landscape. She stood out in profile 
against the wall of light in the northwest, and 
her companion thought he had never seen a 
more entrancing sight. 

'The steamer left someone at the landing," 
she said, and he is now coming up the path. 
Can you make out who it is?" 

"I think it's Hr. Steen," said he. 

'Yes, it is; come, let us be going." 


"Our Waterfalls, * * * in rugged beauty, are not surpassed." 


OME, Atelia, sit down now," said Captain 
Heldman. ''Hr. Steen has something 
to say which you ought to hear." 
Ateha seated herself at the end of the 
table around which Hr. Steen, Hr. Larsen, and her 
father were sitting. She placed her elbows on 
the table and her chin between her hands. With 
a roguish smile, she prepared to listen. 

They were up in the summer house on the 
hill-side above Heimstad, where they were eating 
an afternoon lunch. No Norwegian reception 
would be complete without something to eat. 
They were now waiting for Olga, the maid, to 
bring the dessert. 

"Well," said Ateha, 'I'm w^aiting to hear that 
pohtical speech, Hr. Steen." 

But before Hr. Steen could begin, even if he 
had so intended, Olga arrived. On her tray were 
four small earthenware bowls filled with clabber 
milk, — not sour milk, mind you, but clabbered 
to the right jelly-like consistency. These bowls 
had been filled with the new^ milk, then had 
been placed in the cool, clean milk-cellar, and 
there left until it had set just right. There was 
a thick layer of cream on top of each bowl, 
and Olga had carried them so carefully that not 


a wrinkle or crack appeared in the delicious top 
coat. The girl set her tray on the table, then 
from a bag she took some crushed toasted bis- 
cuit, sprinkled a layer of it over each bowl, then 
on top of that a little sugar. Now help yourself. 
"Vaer so god," said Olga. Dip your spoon down 
carefully at the side and work along the delicacy, 
being sure that you get a little of the sugar, a 
little of the powdered biscuit, and a little of 
the cream with each spoonfull. 

If Halvor Steen had wanted to say something 
especially interesting to Atelia, as her father 
seemed to think, he had evidently changed his 
mind, for his bowl of clabber and some haying 
operations down in the field seemed to occupy 
his whole attention. 

"Hr. Steen here," said the father to Hr. Larsen, 
"is of the party of the Left and I am a 
staunch supporter of the Right; so you see, we 
have some warm arguments." 

"Captain Heldman has sailed under the union 
flag so long" explained Halvor, "that it would 
be impossible for him to think that we could 
get along without King Oscar and our union 
with Sweden." 

"The old flag and the old government is good 
enough for me," replied the Captain, "and I 
love the old fatherland as well as any of you 
striplings. I admire the stability of our govern- 
ment, I love the order which prevails, and the 
honesty which is found in practically every 


department. You see, Hr. Larsen, I have been 
in America, and know somewhat of political 
conditions over there." 

"They are certainly not ideal yet," admitted 
Hr. Larsen. 

''But the foundation for true greatness is 
there," contended Hr. Steen. *'I have recently 
been studying the American Constitution, and 
I think it is a wonderful document." 

**May I suggest one explanation for its great- 
ness?" asked the Mormon Elder. 

"Certainly. What is it?" 

Hr. Larsen took a book from his pocket. "This 
is the Doctrine and Covenants," he explained, 
"in which are set forth the revelations of the 
Lord to Joseph Smith. Let me read a passage: 
It is not right that any man should be in 
bondage one to another. And for this purpose 
have I estabhshed the constitution of this land, 
by the hands of wise men whom I raised up 
for this very purpose.' As this plainly teaches, 
we claim the Lord had a hand in framing the 
fundamental law of our land. It speaks well 
for the Nonvegian Constitution that it has much 
in common with the American." 

The others listened attentively to this decla- 
ration. "I can beheve you," said Halvor, "though 
as 'everything is fair in war and love,' it is 
generally believed that the Lord has nothing to 
do w^ith either of these." 

"Because a thing is 'generally believed' doesn't 


make it true," remarked Atelia, as she finished 
her bowl. 

"We have an ideal country for a republic," 
continued Halvor. "Our people, inspired by 
mountain and sea, are liberty-loving. Our 
children are now getting an education equal to 
any in the world. The ballot will not be in 
ignorant hands, and we shall be able to elect 
our own rulers from the highest in the land 
to the humblest." 

"We're getting the speech, after all," remarked 

"You, Hr. Larsen, will be interested in this 
condition of our country: Church and state are 
yet one with us. This should be changed. Only 
one of the many religious denominations of our 
land has a fair chance. The King, the members 
of his cabinet, judges, school teachers, and many 
other public officers must belong to the Luthe- 
ran church. Thus religion, in many cases, is 
merely a cloak of policy. Your own religion, 
Hr. Larsen, is by law placed with the Mohame- 
dan, and you are not lawfully allowed to pro- 
mulgate it here; the public opinion of a liberty 
loving people alone makes the law a dead letter. 
Here's another condition: In our government 
the executive branch is divided into six depart- 
ments, — the church, the justice, the interior, 
public works, finance, war, and the auditing. 
Now see what a picture this cabinet makes under 
certain conditions. The head of the finance 


department has to do with the raising and 
adjustment of the revenues. He must, for ex- 
ample, calculate how much whiskey shall be 
made, and the tax to be collected on it. The 
head of the church department has to do with 
the amount and kind of religion there shall be 
in the land. The same executive body, there- 
fore has to decide on the amount and kind of 
whiskey and religion which is good for the people 
of Norway." 

"These things should be remedied, of course," 
admitted the Captain, as he rose to go. *'lt will 
do no harm to convert Hr. Larsen as he isn't 
a voter. When do you leave, Halvor?" 

'T shall have to catch this evening's steamer." 
'T'm sorry. Remain until tomorrow. You'll 
not get a more attentive audience than the one 
you have." 

'But appointments, you know, must be filled." 
True. Well, good afternoon." 
'Wait a moment. Father; we'll go too." 
They all strolled down the path, the father 
going to the house, the others into the park at 
the side of the lawn. They reached the water 
where they found a boat into which they got 
and rowed out on the lake. The afternoon 
passed very pleasantly, and ere they were aware, 
it was boat-time for Hr. Steen. 

The three young people went to the pier 
together. ''Which way do you go ?" asked Halvor 
of the missionary. 


"In the morning I am going up into Tele- 
marken for a week." 

"I wish you success, but those fellows up 
there are hard to get out of ruts. 'What was 
good enough for our fathers, is good enough 
for us' is their argument." 

The boat came gHding quietly alongside the 
pier, Hr. Steen leaped aboard, and goodbyes 
were waved. Then the two walked slowly back. 
Twilight deepened over water and woods, and 
lights appeared in windows. Atelia and her 
companion went on to the portico of Heimstad 
and seated themselves in porch chairs. Somehow, 
both of them found it difficult to speak, for 
both were occupied with thoughts which they 
questioned the wisdom of imparting to each 
other. However, the gospel was always a fitting, 
and for occasions like this, a safe subject, and 
so gospel themes occupied their attention until 
it was time to say good night. 

"Did you read the book I left you last?" he 
asked at the door. 

"No; I haven't completed it yet. This racing 
business has upset me, but I shall finish it right 
away. Father has read it and is ready for more. 
Be sure you get some breakfast before you go 
in the morning. And yes, I nearly forgot, — 
father wants to talk to you before you leave, 
so I'll see you again in the morning, and shall 
now only say good night." 

"Good night," said he. 


in Norway nearly two years. He was a 
fine looking young man whose mission 
was doing him a world of good, not only 
in grounding him in a knowledge of the gospel, 
but in putting on him a little of the finishing 
touches of gentlemanliness. He spoke the 
language well, taking care not to mix it, as he 
had known others to do, with English. He had 
met Captain Heldman and his daughter at a 
friend's home in Christiania. They had invited 
him to call at Heimstad, which he had gladly 
accepted, as it lay in his field of labor. He 
had visited with them a good many times now, 
and each visit had deepened their friendship. 

Long and many were the discussions they had 
had on gospel themes. Captain Heldman's reli- 
gious opinions had never been quite orthodox, 
so it was not so difficult for him to accept 
the teachings of the young missionary. As for 
Atelia, naturally of a deeply rehgious nature, 
she had eagerly received the truths brought to 
her. Two years ago she had lost her mother, 
and since then she had nearly completely 
withdrawn from society and had lived quietly 


at Heimstad with her father who was now too 
old for much activity. 

The morning of Elder Larsen's departure, 
Atelia herself supervised the getting and serving 
of breakfast. Afterwards, the Captain and the 
missionary had a long talk in the library. 

"I'm getting along in years," said Captain 
Heldman, "and I shall not have much longer to 
live. I believe what you have brought to us 
is the truth, and I ought to accept it while I 
have the opportunity. I ought to be baptized. 
There's nothing like getting a good harbor, you 
know, at the end of the voyage. When you 
get back from your Telemarken tour, call this 
way and I shall be ready." 

The Elder was very glad to promise; and all 
that morning after leaving Heimstad, his heart 
was light and happy with the prospects of the 
success which was coming to him. He trudged 
along the country road. He had refused to take 
Captain Heldman's offer of a steamer ticket 
because he wished to visit the farmhouses along 
the way. 

The day was beautiful. The hills were larger, 
the air was clearer, the farther he went up into 
the country. The smell of the hills reminded 
him of his mountain home across the sea. He 
called at a farm house, stated his errand, and 
showed his tracts. No, thanks, they did not 
want either tracts or new preachers. The 
preachers they had were good enough for them. 


and if they wished to read, they had the Bible; 
besides, the haying was on, and they had time 
for nothing else. 

He tried a number of houses with the same 
result; but he was not daunted or discouraged; 
he had become hardened to such experiences. 
In his teaching and tracting, Elder Larsen tried 
to have the star of hope ever shining. At every 
door he would say to himself, ''Perhaps here is 
a soul who is seeking for the truth." It was 
certainly like sorting over a bushel of chaff to 
find a kernel of wheat, but the joy which thrilled 
him when the wheat was found, was worth all 
the labor it cost. 

The next house in view was a mile away up 
some distance from the main road skirting the 
lake. The climb up was somewhat steep. The 
sun was getting warm. He would miss that 
house; very likely the same treatment awaited 
him there as he had received at the others. 
Truth to tell, Waldemar Larsen was not then 
thinking of the precious kernel which might 
there be found. His mind slipped as it were, 
away from the present duty and went back 
to Heimstad. 

They had treated him so v;ell there, had given 
him substantial meals, a soft clean bed, and with 
it all a hearty welcome. What a beautiful place 
was Heimstad! What a fine old man was the 
Captain! And Atelia! her image persisted with 
him. She was one in a hundred, yes, in a 


thousand; beautiful and charming, good and 
pure, and now virtually a convert to the gospel; 
educated and refined, well known among the 
best society, and to all appearances, heiress to 
an estate which in Norway was considered a 
good-sized fortune. 

Elder Larsen went on past another house, 
then he sat down on the grass in the shade of 
a tree, not to rest, for he was not tired; not 
to study, for he did not read. His mind, and 
it is to be feared, a good part of his heart, were 
at Heimstad. The scenery around him was 
beautiful, but he did not see it. He lived again, 
as one is prone to do, in the beautiful past. 

He was again with Atelia Heldman in the 
tower above the waving pinetops, looking into 
her sweet face, catching new expressions of 
beauty from form and face and voice. He was 
with her in the evening gloaming under the 
pines and in the garden. He was bending over 
her as she sat by the piano and accompanied 
his song. He thrilled again with the upward 
smiles she had given him when he had made 
a mistake. He felt again the soft, firm grip 
of the hand whenever she bade him good-night 
or good-morning. 

Why should not Waldemar Larsen have such 
thoughts ? He was an unmarried man .... So 
was Halvor Steen. 

Halvor Steen! yes, he was certainly Atelia 
Heldman's lover. For a moment a pang of 


jealousy persisted in his heart. Should he try 
to win this beautiful girl, — win her from Halvor 
Steen ? 

Down on the shining waters of the lake a 
• man was lazily fishing. He certainly was not 
making hay. Perhaps he had no hay to make, 
or more likely, he was shirking — the same as 
the missionary was doing. Physically, Elder 
Larsen appeared to be in the line of duty; but 
mentally, he had gotten sadly out; and the 
Lord^s blessings are vouchsafed only to those 
who are in the line of duty. 

Once more the missionary went on up the 
road. He walked slowly as though it did not 
matter much how far he got that day. The 
houses were now far apart. He tried one about 
noon, but meeting with failure, he went down 
t6 the shore of the lake, where finding a seat on 
a shelving rock, he took from his grip the 
dainty lunch which Atelia had insisted he take 
with him that morning. 

Was he entirely free to let his thoughts range 
as they had been doing ? What about that young 
lady living in his home town, known in that 
town as his ''girl?" They had kept company a 
little, it is true, but there was nothing binding 
between them. She was a good intelligent girl, 
who helped her mother in the housekeeping. She 
played the organ in meeting. Her sweet face 
now looked at him through the dream-distance; 
but beside her stood Atelia Heldman, tall and 


straight, a jaunty cap on the thick coils of her 
dark hair, the clear, beautiful complexion of 
pink and white contrasting sharply with the 
rougher skin of the other. 

The young man drew a letter from his pocket, 
opened and read it. It was his latest from this 
girl in Utah. The letter contained a budget 
of home news, and between the lines there was 
that subtle tell-tale something which always 
creeps in when love dictates the writing. The 
reader of this letter did not fail to get from it 
all its meaning, but — but — 

Again the missionary went on his way. The 
next house proved to be a small but neat-looking 
place, as though it belonged to someone other 
than a farmer. Perhaps it was the residence 
of the minister or the school-teacher. Usually, 
he did not avoid these men, but this afternoon 
he would have done so. He knocked on the door, 
and it was opened by an elderly, well-dressed 
man. Elder Larsen stated his business. 

"Come in," said the man, and he led the way 
through a hall into what looked like a study. 
"Take a seat." 

The young man said he had some tracts which 
he would be pleased to leave. In the course of 
a few days, he would call for them and leave 
some more, if they were desired. Waldemar 
laid his literature on the table, while the man 
adjusted his glasses and glanced at the leaflets. 


**Yes," said the man," I have seen them and 
read them all. They are Mormon tracts.'' 

"You have read them! and — and what do you 
think of them?" 

'They are very well put together, calculated 
to deceive the very elect, let alone our simple 
country folks. It's a sorry business you are in, 
my young gentleman, this preaching of heresy 
to our people. You ought to quit it and go home 
and attend to your business. You are a famaer, 
I understand." 

Waldemar Larsen could not understand how 
this man knew so much about him and his 
doctrine. The young man began to be unusually 
ill at ease. His defense was weak. His mind 
was not quick. He struggled bravely along his 
usual line of exposition, but the feeling of fail- 
ure grew upon him. The man listened atten- 
tively, nor did he try to refute the doctrines 
advanced. Then when the young man seemed 
to have gotten through, the other with a re- 
assuring smile asked: 

"My friend, you believe in the Bible, I see." 

"Certainly I do." 

"Good, you beheve it just as it is written, I 
understand that from your own quotations." 

"Yes; we do not believe that there should be 
any private interpretation put upon the scrip- 

"Good, again. Now let me call your attention 
to some scriptural teachings that you have over- 


looked. I shall not try to explain to you the 
true significance of the outward ordinances you 
have been speaking about and upon which you 
build your salvation; but I want to call your 
attention to the vital parts of the gospel of our 
Savior, the sure foundation of our faith." He 
opened the Bible on the table, turned over the 
pages and read: 

" Tor God so loved the world, that he gave 
His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth 
in Him should not perish, but have everlasting 
life' Do you beheve that?" 

"Certainly; but " 

"Wait; perhaps you wish to put a private 
interpretation on that. Now, I believe that 
statement just as it stands. If I believe, I shall 
have everlasting life. There is nothing said here 
about doing anything for salvation, only to be- 
lieve." The man was emphatic in his state- 
ments as if he spoke from conviction and absolute 

The young missionary w^as well acquainted 
with the passage just quoted, but for the life 
of him he could not frame a satisfactory answer. 
The other went on: 

"You believe in works. You are passing by 
what Christ has done for you, counting it as 
naught, and you are going to w^ork yourself into 
the Kingdom of Heaven. Listen to what Paul 
says. Turn to your Bible also so that you may 
know that I am quoting correctly." 


Waldemar did as he was asked. The reading 
was correct enough. 

" 'Where is boasting then ? It is excluded. 
By what law? of works? Nay: but by the law 
of faith.' 

" Therefore we conclude that a man is justi- 
fied by faith without the deeds of the law.' 
Again Paul says in Galatians, 'Knowing that 
a man is not justified by the works of the law, 
but by the faith of Jesus Christ, even we have 
believed in Jesus Christ that we might be jus- 
tified by the faith of Christ and not by the 
works of the law: for by the works of the law 
shall no flesh be justified.' There it is plain 
and simple, and yet you Mormons come to us 
and say that it is by works we are saved. That 
we must do something. That Christ has not 
done it all. Do you, sir, ever preach from the 
texts I have quoted. I dare say never, and 
therein lies your condemnation." 

The young man sat still, nearly glaring into 
the face of his tormentor, on whose face the 
demoniac smile still remained. 

"If that is not enough," continued the man, 
"turn to Ephesians, second chapter, and that 
will settle the question for good." He read: 

" 'For by grace are ye saved through faith ; 
and that not of yourselves, it is a gift of God. 
Not of works, lest any man should boast.'" 

It seemed to the young missionary that he 
had never seen these passages before. Perhaps 


he never had. And now as they were hurled at 
him, they pierced him to the quick and seemed 
to wound his very innermost soul. There was 
a terrible sinking within him. He tried to rally 
his fleeing senses, but to no avail. His mind 
was a dark confusion. And how he suffered! 
Beads of perspiration stood out on his forehead. 
(Afterwards, when Waldemar Larsen said he 
had tasted of hell-fire, he had reference to these 
few moments in his life.) 

After a brief time, when to sit still longer 
was impossible, the young man mechanically 
took his hat and turned to the door. The hall 
seemed to be dark, and he groped his way out- 
side to the light. From the doorway the man 
of the house bade him good-afternoon and invited 
him to call again. Waldemar only faintly heard. 
He quickened his paces, and the breeze striking 
his face, revived him to a realization of who 
he was and where he was going. 


ALDEMAR LARSEN walked on up the 
road, somewhat dazed for a time. The 
afternoon sun sank nearer the western 
hills, and yet its rays, focused between 
the high mountains, were uncomfortably warm. 
He left the lake behind, as he climbed the road 
leading by a river; but he soon reached another 
but smaller lake in the chain which extended 
up to the base of the Dovre Mountains. The 
road skirted this closely. Now and then a stream 
came dashing from a ravine or small valley into 
the still water. One of these tempted the young 
man, and he went up to where some trees cast 
a shade by the cool, clear water. Here he sat 
down, this time to rest, for he felt bodily tired. 
He bathed his hands and his face, for truth 
to tell, there had been tears in his eyes. From 
v/here he sat not a habitation was in sight, 
neither was there a sound of human activity. 
Never before had he been so dejected, so heavy 
hearted, so alone. From the sadness of his 
heart and the stillness around him, there came 
a memory of boyhood days in his native land, 
when alone in the hills he had lost his cows, 
and the sun was going down. He remembered 


how at one time he had prayed to the Lord 
that he might find them; and sure enough, in 
a few moments, old Brindle's bell was heard over 
a near-by hill; soon he was home with them, 
and he had received comfort from a discerning, 
loving mother. — The tears were welling again. 

But there could be no such home-going with 
this young man. He v/as a long way from 
home and from anyone to whom he could go 
for comfort; and now he felt just like a child 
in need of a parent. In his smaller trials thus 
far in his missionary life, Waldemar had never 
failed to get comfort through prayer; but some- 
how now he lingered in his approach to his 
Heavenly Father as though he were a prodigal 
son and not sure of a hearing or a welcome. 

The sun dipped down behind the mountain, and 
the young man realized that he must be moving. 
He went down again to the lake, found a small 
landing, and learned from a man living near 
by that the steamer would be along shortly on 
its way up to the end of the route. He sat down 
to wait for it, and when it arrived, he went 

Up through river and slender lakes the steamer 
wound its way. It was nine o'clock in the 
evening when they stopped. Most of the pas- 
sengers were tourists who went to hotels, and 
would on the morrow take the over-mountain 
journey to the head of Hardanger fjord, thence 
by steamer again to Bergen. But Waldemar was 


* ■ = 

not on a pleasure trip. His business was to 
reach the people and deliver to them a message. 
So he struck out again on a road which led him 
to one of the upper valleys. 

For an hour he walked. On the steamer he 
had rested, so he was not so weary, but he was 
beginning to feel hungry. Well, a missionary 
should be at tim es tjred and hungry. There 
were plenty of hay-lofts in this ^art, and if it 
came to that, he could sleep in one of them. 
However, he would try a house or two first. 

He climbed a path leading to a house on the 
hillside through w^hose curtained window he 
could see a light burning. It had a cheery, wel- 
coming look, but who could tell without trying. 
He w^ent up and knocked. The door was opened 
by a woman in Telemarken dress who started 
somewhat at his appearance in her doorway. The 
elder explained who he was and what he desired. 

"Yes, yes, I know," she exclaimed, "come in. 
We've been waiting for you; we knew you would 
come." She took his hat and grip and gave 
him a chair. Then she called to someone to 
come from the other room. 

"Johan," she said to a man who evidently w^as 
her husband, "this is the man I saw in my 
dream. He's an exact likeness. Are you not 
a preacher, sir?" This to Elder Larsen. 

"I am a missionary of the Church of Jesus 
Christ, "he replied. 


"I knew it, I knew it," she declared with 
beaming face. 

The good w^oman, seeing the puzzled look on 
the visitor's face, explained that she and her 
husband had been for some time seeking for 
the "true religion." They had read their Bible 
diligently, and had compared its teachings with 
the churches with which they could come in 
contact, but so far they had not been satisfied. 
In their study and prayer they had also received 
some manifestations, — dreams of comfort had 
been given them, and in these dreams a young 
man, agreeing in appearance to their visitor, had 
come to their rescue. ''Now, thank the Lord, 
you have come; but you are hungry and tired, 
and the hour is late. You must have something 
to eat, then get to bed, and in the morning we 
shall hear you." 

Elder Larsen thanked them, ate heartily of 
the simple fare set before him, and then willingly 
retired to the little attic room and to bed. He 
was tired. His nerves, under high tension for 
so long, now relaxed, and with a grateful prayer 
in his heart, he fell asleep. 

When Elder Larsen awoke next morning, the 
sun was shining into the little window. He 
heard the people going about below. He got 
up, dressed, and went to the window to see just 
where he had gotten. A wonderfully grand 
panorama greeted him: A few rods away 
stood a "stabur" which reminded him of the 








f^M^-J^^^^r^. ''- ' ^'< 


one at Heimstad; below, in the bottom of the 
valley, shone a river. Mountains bounded the 
scene on two sides, while in the distance, loomed 
Mt. Gausta, its massive summit streaked with 

Elder Larsen said his prayers, then went down 
stairs where two people and a breakfast were 
awaiting him. They had eaten, so he would have 
to eat alone; but they lingered near as if fearful 
they might lose him. After breakfast, he was 
invited into a small best room, simple but neat 
with windows filled with geraniums, fuchsia, 
and ivy. 

"We think you have a message to deliver to 
us," said the man. **We shall be pleased to 

And Waldemar delivered his message. Never 
before had he spoken with such freedom. The 
Spirit of the Lord shone into his mind and gave 
it understanding. He began with the principles 
of the gospel, and explained faith, repentance, 
and baptism of water and of the spirit; and as 
he talked, Johan Bonden and his wife exchanged 
glances of endorsement. Then the missionary 
told of the restoration of the gospel by an angel, 
of the need of such a restoration, and of the 
establishment of the Church after the primitive 
pattern. He talked for a long time, and the two 
sat and drank in every word as if they had 
been famishing for the word of God, which in 
truth they had. 


''Many thanks," said the man when Elder 
Larsen stopped. "This is just what we have 
been looking for. We beheve eveiy word of 
what you have been saying. Wife and I have 
been reading all about these very things in the 
Bible. Yes, we even found that prediction in 
Revelations where it states an angel should bring 
the gospel to earth again; but of course, we 
never dreamed that it had been fulfilled, and 
now — " and so the questions began. 

All that day Waldemar remained with them. 
The man neglected his usual labors, the woman 
did nothing but prepare the meals and tidy up 
her already tidy rooms. In the afternoon. Elder 
Larsen and Hr. Bonden looked about the place, 
going farther up on the hill to get a better 
view of the valley. The farmer showed Walde- 
mar his cows, his one horse, and his few acres 
of tillable land. Then for a time America, the 
Land of Opportunity, was the theme, and the 
Norwegian farmer was told of its broad fields, 
its vast herds of cattle, its bands of horses. 
Then the housewife beckoned them to come to 
the house to get something more to eat, this 
time delicious chocolate and cake. 

That evening the lamp was lighted again 
early for they might wish to read. 

*T have had great joy in bringing you the 
gospel," said Elder Larsen, "but what about these 
neighbors of yours. Wouldn't they also like to 
hear me?" 


''Well, that we cannot say; we have talked 
to all of them on the very things you have told 
us, and they will have nothing to do with the 
doctrines. They believe implicitly what the priest 
tells them, and the priest has warned them to 
keep away from wife and me; but you might 
try, — they mi^nt listen to you." 

*'I shall give them a chance anyway; and then 
the Lord, of course, will have to take care of 
the rest. When we do what we can. He will 
add what is lacking." 

"That's just what I tell the people," added 
Hr. Bonden; ''but as you very well know, they 
have been so grounded in this doctrine of being 
saved by faith alone that they think it is a sin 
to do anything for their salvation. It's pre- 
posterous, of course, and against all sense and 
reason. Doesn't the Lord work on natural prin- 
ciples? Do we ever get anything in this life 
without working for it?" 

"And this world is just as much the Lord's as 
any other." 

"True; some people believe that the Lord's 
province lies exclusively beyond the grave, and 
that He has nothing to do with the natural 
laws which operate here. The grace of God 
which saves might be likened to the life-giving 
rays of the sun, which, together with the soil 
and the moisture, all God-given, of course, pro- 
vide us all there is on earth; but not uncon- 
ditionally: man must put forth his hand and 


take these blessings. He must intelligently place 
himself in harmony with the laws which govern 
earthly growth in order to reap a harvest; so 
hkewise must he do in the case of heavenly law." 

'That is," said the missionary, " 'Not eveiy 
one that sayeth unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter 
into the kingdom of heaven; but he that doeth 
the will of my Father which is in heaven.' " 

"St. John seemed to think that belief alone 
would not do," said Hr. Bonden, as he turned 
the pages of his Bible and read : " If we walk 
in the Hght, as He is in the light, we have 
fellowship with one another, and the blood of 
Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin.' " 

"And this," added the wife, "in the last 
chapter of the Bible: 'Blessed are they that do 
His commandments that they may have right 
to the tree of life and may enter in through 
the gates into the city.' " 

"As St. James so forcibly says faith without 
works is dead. Then it logically follows that the 
faith which the scriptures speak of as being 
a saving power must be of the kind that is 
made alive by works. I had a conversation with 
a gentleman yesterday," continued Elder Larsen, 
as he thought of his sad experiences of the 
day before, "who quoted strongly from the 
scriptures that man is not justified by the works 
of the law. Do you recall those passages?" 
Truth to tell, the Elder was still somewhat at 
sea with the "works of the law." 


*'0h, yes; I know them. Men are either 
ignorant or dishonest when they use those pas- 
sages to prove that works are unnecessary. I 
was puzzled at first, for there seemed to be a 
contradiction; but I read before and after these 
particular quotations, whole chapters, in fact, to 
find out just what Paul was speaking about; and 
this I found: The ancient saints were loath to 
give up the law of Moses as a means of salvation. 
The law of Moses was one largely of works. 
Ancient Israel had to do a great many things 
to keep them in remembrance of the Lord. The 
ceremonial works of the law — of Moses, mind 
you — were so grounded in that it was difficult 
to get rid of them, and so Paul grows emphatic 
when he writes for instance to the Romans that 
*a man is justified by faith without the deeds 
of the law,' and the same expression in Galatians 
and other places. Surely, the 'deeds of the law' 
could not mean the law of the gospel, but the 
law of Moses, and especially, as the reading 
points out, the law of circumcision." 

Elder Larsen followed the man's exposition 
carefully. A flood of light came to him. Clearly, 
here was the explanation of these puzzling quo- 
tations which had been hurled at him the day 
before. Just then he felt that some day he 
would accept his tormentor's invitation to call 

The next morning, the missionary went on 
his way up the valley; but not before he had 


promised to call again on his way back. After 
leaving his newly found friends — in very deed, 
kernels of wheat in the chaff — he met the usual 
experiences of indifference. 

One morning early towards the end of the 
week, a messenger overtook Elder Larsen, and 
after satisfying himself of his identity, handed 
him a telegram. It read: 

"Please come to Heimstad as soon as possible. 
Father is very ill. — Atelia." 

Heimstad! In the stress and the joy of spirit 
which the missionary had experienced the last 
few days, Heimstad had nearly gone from his 
thoughts. But he was wanted, and needed. He 
turned back on his road, had just time to call 
at the Bonden house to explain and promise, 
and then to catch the steamer down the lakes. 



HE clouds hung heavy over Thorvand, 

over the hills, over Heimstad. The rain 

fell steadily, gently. It dripped from the 

eaves and from the trees and washed 

the grass free from dust. 

It was late morning, yet a hush hung over 
Heimstad as if the inhabitants were loathe to 
get up on such a dreary morning. The cows 
were yet in their stalls in the barn, and the 
sheeps' bells clanged impatiently at the door 
of the sheep-fold. 

The front door opened and Atelia Heldman 
stepped out on the front porch. She looked up 
to the sky, then around as if surprised at the 
absence of life. "Olga has overslept," she said. 
She went back into the house and rapped gently 
on Olga's door. 

"Yes, I'm coming" — from within. 

"It's late, Olga. I should not have kept you 
up so long last night." 

In a very short time the girl was dressed, 
though not in a very good humor with herself 
for sleeping so long. A fire was soon made, the 
cows were milked and let into the pasture, and 
the sheep were released. 


"Now then, Froken Heldman, what shall you 
have for breakfast ?" asked rosy-cheeked Olga, 
as she came in with her full milk pails. 

"Nothing at all, thank you, Olga." 

"But that will never do. You look worn out 
already. Did you sleep at all, last night?'* 

"Not much, I fear. Do you think the rain 
has ceased for good? I see the clouds are 
breaking in the west." 

"That's a good sign; but here, drink a cup of 
coffee at least." 

"You dear girl, have you forgotten that I 
have quit drinking coffee." 

"Yes; but this morning — " 

"Just give me a cup of that warm broth, please. 
— There, that's very good, better, at least better 
for us than coffee." 

Olga demurred goodnaturedly at this. She 
had no very high opinion of this new American 
missionary's teachings, the latest being that 
coffee was not good for one. "Huh," Uncle 
Sande had said, "take away coffee from the 
Norwegian people, and you take away their 
chief material support and joy." 

"Some peoples' support ought to be taken 
away," Atelia had said at the time. 

"Shall I make a little fire in your room?" 
asked Olga. 

"No, thank you. I am going out. If Hr. 
Steen or Hr. Larsen should come while I am 



away, make them comfortable until I come back, 
will you?" 

In a short time the sky appeared in large, blue 
patches; the breeze dried the trees and grass, 
and everything was fresh and sweet. Atelia 
walked down the path to the boat house. Her 
long braids of hair hung down her back; a 
shawl rested loosely over her shoulders. 

Unfastening a small row boat, she adjusted 
the oars, stepped lightly in and pushed from the 
shore. Grace v/as in every movement as the 
light craft glided over the water. She made for 
a rocky headland around which proved to be 
a tiny rock-bound, tree-shaded harbor, across 
which Atelia let her boat idly drift. The oars 
dragged in an untidy fashion from their locks; 
the hands which had held them were folded; 
the girl's head was bowed; and thus in its 
solitude and beauty this picture and its central 
figure were in perfect harmony: was not this 
a scene from a ''Norsk Saga?" had this fair 
girl's lover been slain in some Viking raid, and 
was she in this inner, protected sanctuary, away 
from the strife and uproar of outer fjord and 
sea, sorrowing over her lonely lot? 

With a little guiding push with an oar, the 
boat lay up to a stone landing. Atelia stepped 
out, fastened her boat, and walked up a path 
leading into the woods. In a few moments 
she came to a clearing where stood a house. 
The front door was open, and as the girl stepped 



up to it she was welcomed by a middle-aged 
woman who was preparing the morning meal. 

''Good morning, Froken," said the woman, 
come right in. You are out early this morning." 
Yes; I had to move to keep from giving up 

''Did you row?" 

"Yes; and the lake is lovely beyond words 
this morning; — but I wish you would not call 
me Froken, for I shall call you Sister Nordo 
after this." 

Have you been baptized?" 
No, not yet; but Vm one with you, — and — 
you are about the only friends, you and Helga, 
I have left. Where is Helga?" 

"She will be in directly. You'll sit up with 
us and have some breakfast? You really look 

"Well, I'm not. Sister Nordo," said Atelia 
with a faint smile. 

Helga now came in. She was a rosy-faced 
picture of health and strength. She coaxed the 
visitor to sit up with them and sip a glass 
of new milk, the finest tonic in the world, said 
Sister Nordo. After the meal, the table was 
soon cleared of dishes and a vase of flowers 
was placed in the center. Sister Nordo drew 
up her chair and asked: 

Now, what can we do for you?" 
I — I hardly know; but I feel so bad about 
father." The tears now came to her eyes, and 



in a short time she was sobbing. The mother 
stepped around to the girl and placed her arm 
about her shoulder. Tears of sympathy stood 
in Helga's eyes also, and there was a stillness 
in the room, broken only by Atelia's weeping. 
With motherly caresses the woman quieted the 
girl, who at last, with an effort said: 

"I have been thinking of father. His last 
sickness came on him so suddenly that he did 
not have time to do what he wanted. I was 
with him continually during his last days, and 
he talked rationally with me. Yes, he spoke of 
you folks, and had it in mind to do something 
more for you. Then he had his clothes ready 
for baptism.... He told Elder Larsen that 
he would be ready on his return. He even had 
me go down to the lake and find a suitable 
place. Til be well again in a day or so,' he 
said, 'and Elder Larsen will be here, then we'll 
be baptized, both of us. You believe as well 
as I, then why shouldn't we both go together?' 
and I told him I would go with him, and 0, 
Sister Nordo, he was so glad of that ! . . . . 

"I sent for Uncle Sande, and you may imagine 
he did not like to hear father talk of being 
baptized by a Mormon Elder. Uncle Sande told 
him that if he wished to receive the grace of 
God he must cease such talk. That was towards 
the last, and poor father did not understand 
him, which was a blessing. . . . The end came 
so suddenly. We had also sent for Elder Larsen, 


but he came an hour after father's death .... 

"And now he's gone, and he wasn't baptized. 
What will become of him? 'He that believeth 
and is baptized shall be saved, but he that 
believeth not shall be damned' is ringing in 
my ears. Also 'Except a man be born of water 
and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the 
kingdom of God.' Father, then, has not gone 
to the heaven of the just, and yet he was a 
good man. Yes, Sister Nordo, and so was 
my mother a good woman; yet neither of them 
ever received of the ordinance of baptism as we 
believe it to be necessary. \\Tiat has become 
of them?" 

The girl's question ended in a wail of despair, 
and she broke down again, resting her arms on 
the table, face in hands. Helga now came to 
her, stroked her head, and tried to console her. 
Helga, the daughter of poor working people and 
Ateha, the Mistress of Heimstad had lately 
become close friends, for something had entered 
both their lives which had leveled all barriers 
of wealth or position or learning between them. 

"Uncle Sande would have driven Elder Larsen 
from the house had he dared. But I asked him 
in Uncle's hearing to stay until after the funeral. 
Hr. Steen came of course, but he is so busy 
with political matters just now that he could not 
remain long. And here I am. I don't want to 
go back to Heimstad. I would like to stay 


with you two people all the time. You are such 
a comfort to me." 

"You shall stay as long as you desire, my 
dear girl," said the mother. 

"Yesterday I went to the graveyard, and 
when I saw father's and mother's graves side 
by side, I knew I was alone in the world .... 
You will forgive me, won't you, for coming to 
you with my burdens of woe; but I felt this 
morning that I had to come here." 

"You did just right." 

"Thank you. Now Sister Nordo, what w^as 
that Elder Larsen told us the last time we had 
a little meeting here. It was about baptism 
for the dead. Hr. Steen, you remember, was 
here, and I now confess my sins to you that 
I was not listening as I should." A faint blush 
overspread the girl's face as she admitted this. 

The mother, noticing the tired expression in 
the girl's face, asked Helga to bring a pillow, 
which she arranged on a sofa near the window. 
Then she took Atelia's hand and led her to the 
couch. "Here," she ordered, "lie down for a 
while. I will sit here and tell you what I know 
about baptism for the dead, though it is but 

Atelia did as she was told, and the mother 
explained the best she could. The mother-heart 
went out to this girl who had come to her for 
comfort. In her simple, untutored language, the 
woman talked to Atelia, telling her of the good- 


ness of God which had been revealed to them 
in the restored gospel, and of its saving prin- 
ciples both for the living and the dead. The 
girl lay at first with wide-open eyes and looked 
at the speaker. Then, as the mind became some- 
what rid of its burden, the face lost its care- 
worn expression, and a faint smile came to the 
lips. Presently, Atelia closed her eyes, and when 
she did not say **Go on" any more, when Sister 
Nordo ceased speaking, they knew she was asleep. 
Then they carefully tucked a cover about her, 
drew down the blind, and left her in quiet to rest. 


T was past noon when Atelia awoke. 
She was feehng much better, and she 
gladly partook of the dainty lunch which 
Helga prepared and set before her. As 
she ate, she told Sister Nordo and Helga that 
she had dreamed a most comforting dream 
wherein her father had appeared to her and 
assured her that all was well with him, and 
that she was to have a talk with Elder Larsen 
on the subject of baptism for the dead. 

"And now I am ever so much obliged for your 
kindness," she said as she prepared to take her 
departure. "I'll remember it always." 

"But you'll come again; come often; it's little 
we have for such as you, but you know, — " 

"Tut, tut," interrupted Atelia. "I'm coming 
again ; I've many things to talk to you about. 
I'm going to walk back, if Helga will take care 
of my boat. I want to smell the woods after 
the rain." 

They urged her to remain, but she explained 
that Uncle Sande would be waiting to talk over 
some business pertaining to her father's affairs. 

Helga v/alked with Atelia some distance into 
the woods. The sky was now clear, the air was 


cool after the rain. Atelia led her friend to 
talk of her cousins in America, and how they 
were faring in their new home. Then she dis- 
missed her by saying: ''Thank you, Helga; now 
you must go back." 

Atelia w^ent on alone under the trees, over 
the sloping hill-sides and down towards Heim- 
stad; and as she swung along her spirits came 
back. She breathed deeply. Life was worth 
living, after all; she yet had the gospel and, — 
Halvor Steen; what more could any girl ask? 

Yes, the gospel was getting to be very dear 
to her. She had always, as far back as she 
could remember, taken a deep interest in religious 
subjects, although her love for out-door sport 
had made some people think to the contrary. 
She had always been faithful, in her young 
girlhood days, in going to the priest to learn 
her catechism. The eventful day of her con- 
firmation she remembered well, for that cere- 
mony was looked upon by the young people as 
the culminating point in their religious hfe, and 
they likened it somewhat to the Roman youth 
putting on his toga or the Enghsh high bom 
being presented at Court. 

However, that afternoon as she walked under 
the trees, her mind was on more recent events, 
especially on the coming of Elder Larsen and 
his religion into their lives. Uncle Sande was as- 
sistant to the parish priest, and he had never had 
patience with her father or her when they asked 


him questions on religious subjects. He openly 
opposed the visits of Elder Larsen, and said 
some very bad things of him and his religion, 
which Atelia could not beheve. In fact, if fruit 
may be judged by its appearance, by its taste, 
and by the effect it has on the person who 
partakes of it, then this so-called Mormonism, 
tried by the same standards, must be among 
the finest religions in the world. But Uncle 
Sande had shrugged his shoulders at this argu- 
ment when Atelia had used it, and Hr. Steen, 
who heard it, smiled at the way she had silenced 
her unde. 

The sun was an hour or so above the horizon 
when she reached the tower. She climbed up 
to the top and sat down to rest. The view 
was just as fine that afternoon as ever, but 
she heeded it not, for her mind was busy. When 
would Halvor call again? He might find time 
from his electioneering to spend a little time 
with her. He might know she was lonesome. 
She had also written to Elder Larsen to call, 
and she hoped he would not be long, for she 
now had some questions of vital importance 
to ask him. 

And now, as Atelia Heldman sat in the tower 
above the tree tops, the tempter came to her, 
as we read he came to the Master, to show 
the soul on whom he had designs, the glories 
of the world. As she looked over Thorvand, a 
passing steamer drew her attention and 


furnished occasion for the tempter to whisper 
to her: How often have you traveled on that 
same boat to Skien, then on to Christiania! In 
the capital, you have a host of friends, people 
of note, of wealth, and power. Now, if you 
become a Mormon, what then? Will you still 
be received as a welcome guest into the best 
families? Will you? Will you not drop com- 
pletely out of sight the moment people know 
you are a Mormon? Such common folks as 
Sister Nordo and Helga will be your only 
associates. Will it be worth while to sacrifice 
yourself thus, at the opening of a promising 
career ? Then there is Halvor Steen ! . . . . 

Halvor Steen doesn't want a Mormon v/ife; 
that would be too much to ask of him and his 
proud mother. And yet you want Halvor, you 
know you do, for you love him. You have 
loved him for a long time now, and you are 
eagerly, tremblingly awaiting for him to ask 
you to be his wife. Will he ever do that if 
you join the despised Mormons? Will he? Will 
he not rather seek for a wife among the fair 
daughters of the north who are content with 
Norway, religion and all ? Will he not ? . . . . 

The steamer on the lake disappeared, and its 
smoke blended with the haze in the distance. 
Atelia sat motionless as if some power held her; 
and still the tempter kept on: And there is 
Heimstad, beautiful Heimstad, the home of your 
ancestors. You cannot leave that. Ere long 


the green will be tinged with yellow and brown. 
Then the winter will freeze the lake and cover 
the land with a deep, soft mantle of snow over 
w^hich you will glide on your long snow-shoes. 
You are in love with Heimstad, and no wonder. 
So is Halvor Steen, for that declaration has 
already come. Heimstad will be a changing 
country seat for you and Halvor. A home in 
Christiania and one here! Can any condition 
be more ideal ? . . . . 

The sun rested for a moment on the western 
hills, then sank out of sight. A chill crept over 
the earth, and reached the heart of the maiden 
in the tow^er. She shivered, and drew her shawl 
close, crouching into the seat. The earth was 
losing its life and beauty. The tempter had 
not shown her joy and peace of heart and soul. 
He had tried to show her the glory of the world, 
but with it there was an emptiness, an utter 
void of darkness and despair. She struggled as 
with an unseen power. Darkness came on before 
its time; the tower seemed to sway to and fro 
as if it would fall, but she w^as not afraid of 
that; some fear, more dreadful than that of 
death, crept into her heart; despair, utter and 
indescribable despair rolled over her in great 
floods; would her soul be utterly crushed?.... 

She had strength enough and presence of mind 
enough to form a prayer, silent, but from her 
heart. She prayed for deliverance, for light 
in the darkness, for power to throw off the evil 


which seemed to be taking her life. As she 
prayed, she gained more power to pray; and 
presently she found relief. Light came back, 
and joy. She could move her limbs again, and 
she stood upon her feet. There was a beautiful 
twilight in the sky, and the breeze cooled her 
face. One more prayer she uttered standing, 
a prayer of thanksgiving. Then she walked 
carefully down the steps to the ground. By the 
time she had reached the house, she was herself 

As she stepped on the porch, she saw Elder 
Larsen standing near the door with hat and 
grip in hand as if about to depaii:. Olga and 
Uncle Sande were to be seen in the hall, through 
the open door, in animated conversation. 



the long road from Skien to Heimstad. 
The truth of the matter was that he 
could not afford the steam-boat fare. 
He had received no money from home for some 
months, so he was, for the time being, "broke." 
However, at the receipt of Atelia's letter re- 
questing him to come to Heimstad, he had set 
out immediately. He had good road-legs, and 
his appetite for the plain country fare increased 
as he advanced. 

As Atelia's letter was urgent, he regretted 
that he could not have taken the quicker means 
of reaching her. At one place on the road 
Waldemar was surprised by having a farmer 
ask him to ride in his wagon. Seated on the 
rough cart, Elder Larsen entertained the farmer 
by an account of America, always a fruitful 
theme. The farmer thought this American ought 
to know his brother-in-law in Minnesota and 
his son in Chicago. This ride was Waldemar's 
first and last "lift" that any citizen of the north 
ever offered him. 


The sun was low when Heimstad came into 
view. The traveler was tired and hungry, but 
he knew he would be well treated at the large, 
white house on the hillside. He strode boldly 
up the path and went around to the side, and 
met Olga in the yard. She told him that Froken 
Heldman was away — had been away nearly all 
day, but she would no doubt be back soon. He, 
however, was to go right in and make himself 
at home. 

Waldemar went into the kitchen, and placing 
his umbrella, hat, and grip on the bench, he sat 
down to rest by the old-fashioned combination 
grate and cook stove. He was always interested 
in what was going on around these stoves, and 
this evening the savory smells added to its 
charms. The young man was speculating on 
how he would build just such a fireplace when 
he came to the erection of his own home away 
over in Utah, when an inner door opened and 
a gentleman appeared. It was evidently a sur- 
prise to this man to see Elder Larsen making 
himself at home by the kitchen fire, but it was 
just as much a surprise to Waldemar to see 
in this man the gentleman who had so worsted 
him in a theological discussion up in Telemarken. 

"What is your errand here, sir?" asked the 
man sharply. 

Waldemar was tempted to answer the man in 
the same tone, but he checked the desire and 
explained that he wished to see Froken Heldman. 



"Froken Heldman is not at home; besides she 
has no business with a Mormon preacher. I 
advise you to travel on; we do not entertain 
strangers here." 

*'I am not a stranger here. I am here by 
special invitation of Froken Heldman. I ought 
to see her before I go." 

*'I am in charge here now, and I do not want 
the presence of such as you. I advise you to 
be gone." 

Waldemar picked up his things, and was 
moving toward the door when Olga entered. 

*'You are not going?" she asked. 

**Yes, Olga, he is going," answered the gentle- 
man. *'Do not detain him." 

"But sir, Froken Atelia told me that if Hr. 
Larsen should come, he was to be entertained 
until she returned." 

"I tell you we do not want any Mormon 
priests here. Stand out of his way, Olga." 

Elder Larsen stepped out on the porch where 
he paused for a moment. It was getting dark, 
and he wondered what he should do next. Where 
could he go for the night? He was always 
welcome at Sister Nordo's. He would have to 
go there, and perhaps next day get some explan- 
ation of the state of affairs. Just then Atelia 
herself came down the path and recognized 
him at once. 

"Good evening, Elder Larsen," she said. "I 


am so glad you came. Have you just arrived? 
Come right in/' 

Waldemar did not heed her invitation. He 
stood still looking at the girl in the twilight, 
attracted by the strange expression in her face. 

Terhaps I ought not go in," he said. 

'Why? what is the matter?" 

''Well, I have just been told that I am not 
wanted here, and in short, that I was to be off." 

"Elder Larsen! Who said that?" 

'*A man in the house, — the one who is talking 
to Olga." 

''Uncle Sande?" 

"Is that your Uncle Sande? Then I under- 

"But I do not. Come in, and we'll get an 

"Wait a moment. You see, your uncle hates 
me, hates my religion. I do not want to quarrel 
with him." 

"But Elder Larsen, I don't hate you or your 
rehgion. I want to talk with you. What has 
Uncle Sande got to do with my affairs." 

"Very much, it seems; he told me he was in 
charge here." 

The blood quickened in the girl's veins and 
burned in her cheeks. "Will you come with me ?" 
she asked. 

Waldemar followed her into the house. Olga 
was busy in the kitchen, Uncle Sande was 


sitting by a desk in the dining room, examining 
some papers, when the two entered. Atelia 
gave the elder a chair. 

"Uncle Sande," she asked, "why did you 
treat Elder Larsen like a tramp?" 

The man turned leisurely to the table on 
which he spread his documents. "Because that's 
just what he is, no more, no less; and I cannot 
understand, Atelia, why you should associate 
with such people." 

The color deepened in the girl's face as she 
stood erect, indignant. "Uncle Sande, such 
people were good enough for father, and what 
was good enough for him, I am not ashamed of." 

"Your father was old and feeble minded," 
was the reply; "he was not always responsible 
for what he did. But you, you ought to have 
better sense than to be deluded by Mormon 
preachers, you who were brought up under 
Christian influences." 

"I'm not going to argue the question with 
you. Uncle. All I ask is that you treat a person 
who comes to my home on my special request, 
as a gentleman." 

Uncle Sande did not answer; he turned over 
his papers. 

There came a pause. Elder Larsen thought 
he ought to say something, and this was the 
best he could do: "Perhaps I ought not to 
stay, Froken Heldman. I do not wish to be 


a disturber. I'll take the next steamer back 
to Skein." 

Atelia turned on him. She was thoroughly- 
aroused, and her eyes blazed. **You may do 
as you please," she said. *^1 am mistress here. 
I asked you to call. You are my guest. If 
vou do not wish to remain, I have no more 
to say." 

Waldemar was slow in answering. Uncle Sande 
arose and said: 

"Atelia, this nonsense may as well stop now. 
You speak with confidence about this being your 
home. Do not be so sure of that. As far as 
ownership goes, until your father's affairs are 
settled, you know nothing about it. Meanwhile, 
I am in charge here, and you should let me be 
the judge in such matters as making Heimstad 
headquarters for Mormon missionaries." 

"Uncle, you are not my master. Just now this 
is my home, my castle, if you please, even if 
it should prove later that not a stone or piece 
of timber in it is mine. I am mistress here, 
and you, Uncle, will please not interfere in my 
personal matters. That's all for this evening." 

She took Elder Larsen's hat, which he still 
held in his hand, picked up his umbrella, and 
carried them into the hall. From the kitchen 
door she told Olga to bring in the supper. Then 
she busied herself with setting the table. Uncle 
Sande passed out. 

They were soon sitting at the table. She 


asked him to say the blessing, then she helped 
him to a liberal supply of food. 

"You must be hungry," she said; "and it's a 
shame to have kept you waiting so long. . . . Yes, 
I'll eat also, for I'm hungry now. Getting over an 
angry spell always gives me an appetite," she 
laughed. "You must forgive me for speaking 
so sharply to you. I was annoyed by your re- 
marks about letting Uncle Sande scare you away. 
Oh, I know him, and how to treat him. He'll 
not bother any more this evening." 

Elder Larsen was content with the outcome, 
for he was hungry and tired. Atelia was already 
looking better. She inquired about the coming 
conference in Christiania, about the newly arrived 
missionaries, and Waldemar was pleased to in- 
form her. Then when the table was cleared, 
Olga was told to leave the dishes for a while, 
bring her crochet-work, and sit with them. 
Elder Larsen's talk would do her good; besides, 
Atelia had other reasons for desiring her 

Atelia explained how she had worried about 
her father, how she had gone to Sister Nordo's, 
and what she had learned there. "But I was 
to have you give a further explanation of these 
things, I was told in my dream, and here you 
arc." She said very little about her terrible 
experience of the afternoon with the tempter. 

The young elder was glad to teach this young 
woman, and also the other girl who was listening 


attentively over her work. What missionary 
is not? The world is so cold and so indifferent, 
that when someone is eager to receive, he is 
just as eager to give. Teaching the gospel to 
receptive minds is the keenest joy of missionary 
life, and the missionary will make many sacri- 
fices to get the privilege. So that evening, 
the Lord blessed the Elder's words and they 
went joy-laden and full of comfort to receptive 

"The beauty of the gospel," said Elder Larsen, 
"is its comprehensiveness. It is as high as the 
heavens, as wide as eternity; it encompasses all 
things ; it provides for all conditions ; the All-wise 
Merciful Father who is the Author of the gospel, 
stretches out his loving arms to the uttermost 
bounds of time and space. This life is but a 
brief space of time, a bit of the infinite in terms 
of the finite. The Lord is wise in thus dividing 
infinity into sections, as it were, so that we 
might grasp a little of life's meaning. We are 
eternal beings: we came from somewhere, we 
are going somewhere; and God is over it all." 

Olga's needle moved slowly through the thread. 

"The gospel is the power of God unto salvation. 
The power of God is not limited to this Hfe. 
Always and everywhere when there is a soul to 
save, and that soul is in a condition to be saved, 
the gospel is at hand, for it is an everlasting 
gospel. When the love of God fails, then, but 


not till then, the gospel will fail. Let us get 
that fixed in our minds." 

"Is it not beautiful !" said Atelia softly, as with 
shining eyes she leaned fonvard to catch every 

"Your father was a good man. He understood 
the gospel very well ; he believed in its principles, 
but he was hindered from yielding obedience to 
its ordinances. Your mother no doubt, was a 
good, true woman, though she never heard the 
gospel preached in its purity. Yes, there are 
thousands of good men and women, sons and 
daughters of God who have gone into the great 
spirit world without a knowledge of the pure 
gospel of the Redeemer. Are they lost? Does 
God's mercy end at the grave? Oh, no. Hand 
me your Bible 

"I read here in First Peter, third chapter: 
'Christ also hath once suffered for sins, the 
just for the unjust, that he might bring us to 
God, being put to death in the flesh, but quick- 
ened by the spirit; by which also he went and 
preached to the spirits in prison, which some- 
times were disobedient in the days of Noah while 
the ark was preparing!' 

"You remember that in our talk about the 
thief on the cross, I referred to this passage, and 
explained that Christ, after his death, went and 
preached to those in the spirit world. Certainly, 
He preached the gospel. Baptism is a part of 


the gospel, as well as faith and repentence; but 
how can the dead be baptized?" 

^'That's what I should like to know," said Olga, 
whose needle had nearly stopped. 

**Here is a passage which may help us out: 
'Else what shall they do which are baptized for 
the dead, if the dead rise not at all? why are 
they then baptized for the dead T " 

"Can we be baptized for those who are dead?" 
asked Atelia. 

"According to the scriptures and modem reve- 
lation, we can." 

"-Then I am ready to be baptized for father and 
mother tomorrow." 

Elder Larsen smiled at her eagerness, and ex- 
plained further to her that this ordinance is 
performed in the Temples erected for that pur- 
pose; also that men are baptized for men and 
women for women. "Besides," said he, "you 
remember you are not yourself baptized." 

"Yes; I suppose that is the proper order; and 
I shall need a man to help me in my work 
for the dead?" 

"Yes, you will certainly need a man to help 
you. 'Neither is the man without the w^oman, 
neither the woman without the man, in the 
Ix)rd.' " 

Thus the evening passed, and before they were 
aware, it was time to separate. "Olga," said 
Atelia, "will you see that Elder Larsen's room 



is ready; and Olga, if you don't mind, I wish 
you would stay wuth me tonight. I — I am a 
bit nervous." 

Waldemar arose to go, and AteUa followed him 
to the door to say goodnight. "Tomorrow," she 
said, "may I be baptized? I have found a beau- 
tiful spot near Nordo's, and Sister Nordo and 
Helga have promised to come. What do you 
think about it?" 

"Just as you say; if you are ready." 

"Then tomorrow\ Goodnight." 



I HE town of Strand where Halvor Steen 

lived contained a few Latter-day Saints. 

When Elder Larsen visited them, he made 

it a point to call on Halvor who was 

always glad to see him. Frue Steen treated him 

with cold civility, so his stay was not at any 

time long. 

This afternoon, as Waldemar knocked on the 
door of the Steen residence, Halvor himself 
opened it wide, and with a cheery welcome, bade 
him come in. 

"I was just passing through Strand today," 
explained the visitor, "and I dared not disregard 
your. standing order to call." 

"That's right. Come right in to the fire; it's 
cold today. How are you, anyway. I haven't 
seen you for some time." 

Seated cosily within, the two men settled 
themselves for a pleasant chat. Halvor was one 
of those rare exceptions, a non-smoker, which 
fact added much to the missionary's comfort. 

"Well, I suppose you have heard that I failed 
to get the nomination I was after," began Halvor. 
'No; I had not heard." 

'Yes, I lost out on the last ballot. Up to 



then, I had a chance; but friend Transen, my 
opponent, beat me. So it's all off for this time, 
and I am now devoting myself to my business, 
which has been sadly neglected." 

"Have you been to Heimstad lately?" 

**Not for some time. I have been very busy." 

**Yes; but don't stay away too long. You per- 
haps know that Captain Heldman left his affairs 
in a somewhat poor condition." 

"Yes, I heard that." 

"Atelia's Uncle Sande has control up at Heim- 
stad, and it is my opinion that she will fare 
poorly at his hands. He claims to have bought 
from Captain Heldman the whole estate, and 
Atelia is in danger of being turned out of house 
and home." 

"Is it that bad? Poor girl; I'll run up 
tomorrow; thank you, Larsen, for telling me." 

"That's right; she will be glad to see you." 

"I don't know about that; but of course she 
will want to tell me, *I told you so.* " 

"I don'L understand." 

"Well, let me explain," said Halvor good- 
naturedly. "You saw the boat race this summer 
and how I was so beautifully beaten. I thought 
Ateha was out of it, so that left me a fair 
chance to come out first; and just then, I did 
want to win. You know, Larsen, we Norwegians 
have not yet quite gotten out from under the 
influence of superstition. Our forefathers saw 
gods and demons and sprites and trolds in every 


wind and weather, and the supernatural is in 
the blood yet. Well, one day while a party of 
us was having an outing, and old fortune-telHng 
gypsy told me that my political success depended 
on my winning a boat race, or at least, that was 
the interpretation I placed upon the hag's words ; 
and AteHa, who heard, took it the same way. 
Now, for some reason which I cannot fathom, 
she did not wish me to be successful in my 
political career; so what did she do but get out 
her racing 'Blue Bird' and, — you know the rest. 
What do you think of that? Why should Atelia 
want me beaten?" 

Elder Larsen could truthfully say he did not 
know, but he suggested that Atelia Heldman 
was incapable of wishing anybody harm, and 
especially Hr. Steen. 

"I hope — I know you are right; but, Larsen, 
believe me, these women are deep. You must 
have a strenuous time at your home in Utah 
with your six wives, eh!" 

"You're rather jolly for a defeated candidate." 

"Oh, it hurt for a time; but I claim to be 
somewhat of a philosopher. By the way, that 
book you let me take, — 1 dipped into it again 
last evening, and I have forty questions to ask 
you. I'm not detaining you too long?" 

"Not at all. I'll be glad to talk over with you 
any points you wish." 

"Even on the Mormon marriage system?" 

"Certainly — even on the Mormon marriage 


system," answered Elder Larsen with some 

'1 hope you will pardon me. I don't want 
to appear rude." 

"You are not rude. Your interest in the 
marriage question is perfectly natural and right. 
A man of your age and endowments should be 
thinking of marriage; and with such a person 
as Froken Heldman in the foreground of your 
thoughts, — well, you are to be congratulated." 

'Thank you; she is a sweet girl, — too good for 
me, I fear." 

*'If that be true, make yourself worthy of her." 

"I am going to try. Now, let me ask you 
about this marriage for eternity. It's a new 
idea to me, for as you know, we have been 
taught to look upon marriage as a state or con- 
dition applicable to this life only." 

"I know ; and without criticising others beliefs, 
let me try to make plain our teachings on that 
subject. To me this doctrine is one of the most 
beautiful imaginable. Some day I hope to love 
a girl so much that I will want her to be with 
me and be my companion and wife as long as 
I live and have a being." 

"As long as you live?" 

"And I shall live forever. I shall still live 
when this mortality is laid aside for a time. I 
shall live in the spirit world, and then after that, 
in the resurrected, celestial form. Now then, 
friend Steen, think with me of a love that begins, 


we shall say here — though I sometimes think 
that the beginning of all true love antedates 
even mortality — then as it continues and grows 
through the years, becoming stronger through 
sacrifice, more beautiful and more divine as the 
years of toil and struggle pass over our whitening 
heads, think with me, my friend, of such a love, 
and tell me when you would want it to cease?" 

"Never, never." 

*ls it not good to think — is it not reasonable 
to think, that the most beautiful thing in the 
world, the love between husband, wife and 
children is like truth itself, eternal in its nature, 
and will endure forever. If we are eternal beings, 
and all Christians admit that, what will we take 
with us into the new world but the sum-total 
of our thoughts and feelings from the old? and 
what thoughts and feelings enter more into a 
good man's life than those associated with the 
family ?" 

*'Just a moment until I catch up with you .... 
Yes, I suppose you are right; but according to 
that line of argument, if a man's life has been 
full of evil thoughts and feelings, this evil will 
continue with him hereafter." 

''Naturally; until he changes and exercises 
himself in the good. Man is what he is at any 
point of his existence. — But coming back to the 
question of marriage and its duration, let me 
call your attention to the fact that when mother 
Eve was given to father Adam there was no 


such limiting expression used by the Lord as 
'until death do you part.' There was then no 
death, therefore it was not taken into considera- 
tion. That is the way, it seems, that the Lord 
performs marriages. *I know that whatsoever 
God doeth, it shall be forever,' says the Preacher 
of the old Bible; and even our modem ministers 
admonish us not to put assunder that which 
God has bound in one — but I do not wish to 
enter into a Biblical discussion of the subject. 
Any more questions?" 

"You have answered a number already, and 
I can have no objections to what you say. Now, 
tell me, should our ministers marry people for 
'time and eternity' as you call it?" 

'Tn the first place, they will not because they 
do not believe in it; and in the second place, 
they have not the power. This power exists 
only in the true Church, the Church which 
preaches the doctrine and has the power of the 
priesthood to officiate in the name of the Lord." 

'Therefore the necessity of all men and women 
who contemplate marriage becoming members 
of that Church," added Halvor Steen. 

"You have placed the proposition exactly, if 
bluntly ; but, don't think us arbitrary or bigoted. 
We only wish to be consistent, — and right. 
Every blessing, little or big, is obtained by the 
observance of the law upon which it is predicated. 
If this doctrine of marriage, for instance, does 
not appeal to you, why — " 


**But it does appeal to me, Larsen. I don't 
quite understand it yet, but I have applied the 
test you told me the last time we had a talk, and 

it 'tastes good' Larsen, tell me, have you 

ever talked like this to Atelia?" 

"Oh, no; not on this subject." 

"One more question. What about this plural 
marriage? Do you still teach and practice it? 
I hear so much and read so much in the news- 
papers that one is bewildered. Tell me the truth 
about this." 

Elder Larsen had hardly got through with his 
explanations, which he was pleased to give, when 
the door opened, and Frue Steen entered with 
refreshments on a tray. The conversation on 
religious topics now ceased, and the remainder 
of the evening was spent pleasantly in other 



FTER Elder Larsen's visit to Strand, Hal- 
vor Steen hurried to Heimstad. He found 
Atelia a trifle paler and thinner than 
he had ever seen her. Not that she was 
dull or gloomy, but the saucy piquancy of former 
times had toned down to a more quiet gentleness. 
Her smile was as sweet as ever, — sweeter Halvor 
thought, tinged as it was with the sadness of 
recent events. Halvor had come unannounced, 
so after the first greeting, Atelia excused herself, 
sped to her room, and in a short time, reappeared 
in another dress. Had she fairies at her command 
that could, in such a short time, transform her 
to the angel which she seemed to Halvor. He 
arose to greet her again and took her hands; 
and as he stood there and looked at her, he 
thought of what Elder Larsen had said about 
the love that endures forever, and the possession 
which extends into the eternal worlds ; and his 
whole being cried out, I want you, I want you 
always and forever! 

"And now," said Halvor to her as they were 
seated by the warm south window, "what are 
you going to do next? I understand that when 
all debts are paid, you will still have Heimstad 


'*Yes; I must be thankful that I still have 
a home, — this house is all I have, — and the 
'Blue Bird/ '' 

*lf it came to a pinch," suggested Halvor with 
a twinkle in his eye, *'you could lodge comfort- 
able in the 'Blue Bird.' " 

'1 wouldn't have to pay rent, would I?" 

"And you could have a change of scenery as 
often as you desired." 

"It would be splendid, ideal; but coming back 
to realities, I shall sell the boat. There is a 
neat sum of money tied up in it, which I must 
now have. Don't you know some rich American 
who would give me what I think the boat is 
worth ?" 

Halvor didn't, but he would help her find such 
a person. "And now," said he, coming back to 
his question, "what are your plans?" 

"I can't live here alone, so I am going to close 
the house, or rather have the Nordo family live 
here and take care of it. They will be glad to 
do it, rent free. Then I thought of going to 
Christiania for a week or ten days, after which 
my plans take me for three months up the coast 
to visit with some of mother's people." 

"Why not come and stay with us at Strand 
a while. Mother was just the other day speaking 
about you, and she would be glad to have you. 
She is alone most of the time." 

"Thank you. I shall be glad to visit and get 



better acquainted with your mother; but I must 
go to Christiania first." 

''Why, may I ask?" 

"I don't mind telling. There is to be a 
gathering, or conference, I believe they call it, 
of Latter-day Saints in Christiania. I have 
accepted Elder Larsen's invitation to attend." 

"Is it free for all, — I mean non-members as 
well as members?" 

"Oh, yes; I understand all are welcome." 

'Then I should like to go, too." 

'I wish you would. I don't like to travel 

And so it was arranged that Atelia should call 
at Strand which was on the way, and there 
Halvor should join her. Because of this new 
arrangement, it would be necessary for Halvor 
to hurry back home that he might get his affairs 
in shape ; so he left Heimstad that evening. 

"It will be wiser not to say anything to mother 
about the Mormon Conference," he admonished 
AteHa as he was leaving; "she doesn't under- 

"Trust me," she said. 

In due time Atelia called at Strand, and Halvor 
was ready to accompany her. Elder Larsen's 
headquarters were at Larvik, and as that town 
was not far away, they decided to call on him. 
The evening was closing in threatening rain when 
Halvor and Atelia alighted from the boat and 


started in search of the Mormon headquarters. 
Halvor knew the town well, so was surprised 
that the address led them away from the busi- 
ness section to one of the poorest quarters. He 
knew of no place where offices for business and 
halls for meetings could be had in that part. 

Street and number directions led them to a 
large two-story frame building. The number was 
over the entrance to a hall-way up which 
extended a flight of stairs. The two hesitated, 
then tried the stairs. They creaked noisily, and 
it was quite dark within. Surely, no church had 
its headquarters in such a crazy building. 

At the further end of the upper hall, a small 
oil lamp was burning, and by its light they read 
a sign on a door to the left: "De Sidste-dages 
Heliges Forsamlings Lokal." 

"This must be the place," said Halvor, and he 
knocked on the door, which in a moment was 
opened by Elder Larsen, who stood staring at 
them as if he could not believe his eyes. 

"Good evening," said Halvor. "You see, we 
are returning the compliment and are calling on 
you this time." 

"Come in. Well, who would have thought it," 
he exclaimed as he shook their hands. "This is 
indeed a surprise. Here, sit down." 

They made a survey of the room, which 
certainly had neither the appearance of office nor 
church. A dozen unpainted benches were piled 
up in one end. A lounge with bedding on it 


and a small table occupied the other part of the 
room near the stove in which there was no fire. 
A lamp hung over the table, and directly over 
the lamp-chimney was suspended a small tin pail. 
By the appearance of the table, Elder Larsen was 
about to dine, for it was set with one plate, one 
cup, a dish of potatoes (boiled in their jackets), 
a salted herring, and some bread. A newspaper 
served as tablecloth. 

''Why, Elder Larsen, we are just in time for 
supper, I believe," said Atelia. 

The missionary was in his shirt sleeves. He 
had a table knife in his left hand, which in his 
embarrasment, he carried about and flourished 
when his speech needed emphasis. 

**Yes; it will soon be ready; but my guests, 
coming on me like this, will have to excuse the 
cook if the eatables are below the desired quality 
and quantity." The tin pail above the lamp 
now began to simmer and then to sing. Waldemar 
mounted a chair, unhooked the pail from above 
its lamp-chimney stove, and placed it, steaming, 
on the table. Elder Larsen stood back, looked 
at his table, then at his visitors, and then he 
laughed. The others laughed also. 

"Elder Larsen," asked Atelia, "what have you 
in your soup kettle? I believe it's something so 
good that you don't want to give us any of it." 

Waldemar took the lid from the pail. "It's 
nothing but 'ol-ost,' he explained; "and it's *ost' 
in very deed. The milk must have been sour." 


''Why, I'm in luck," cried Halvor; ''that's just 
what I Hke. I always hope that mother will get 
sour milk when she makes 'ol-ost;' but here, 
Larsen, eat your supper; it's getting cold." 

"You'll have some with me?" 

"Of course we will," said both the others. 

Whereupon Waldemar fetched from a trunk 
in a corner two more cups, knives, forks, and 
plates, and would have replaced the newspaper 
with a white cloth, but Atelia forbade him. 

"Well, it's ready," said the host; and then 
chairs were drawn up, and Elder Larsen asked 
the blessing. Atelia adeptly peeled the potatoes, 
while Waldemar cleaned the herring. Halvor 
did justice to the contents of the pail. They were 
all in good spirits, and really enjoyed themselves. 

"We have a very small branch of the Church 
here," explained Elder Larsen, "most of them 
poor people, so we get very little help from them. 
A missionary's funds are usually low too, towards 
the close of his mission, therefore, he can not 
do much in the way of display. That accounts 
for these poor quarters." 

"I understand you get no salary for this work," 
said Halvor. "How can you do it? You fellows 
over in America must all be rich." 

"Oh, no; it doesn't cost much to live in this 
way ; and then, when a person is willing to make 
sacrifices, the way opens, and the Lord provides. 
Of course, back of all this missionary work which 
is done by our people stands fixedly the belief 


that true riches does not consist in this world's 
goods. — But may I ask, how did you come to 
make this call?" 

*'We are going to conference," said Atelia. 
*Are you ? good." 

'And we hoped you would go with us. We're 
both novices at going to conference, you know." 

Waldemar did not reply to this. When the 
meal was ended, the dishes were placed under 
a cloth. The missionary explained he would 
attend to them later. There being no meeting 
that evening, they would do a little visiting. 
The others were delighted with the proposition. 

"We will call on Brother and Sister Olsen," 
said Elder Larsen. 'T believe there is choir 
practice this evening. 

Brother Olsen proved to be a prosperous 
tradesman who could afford an organ, therefor 
the reason for choir practice at his home. Sister 
Olsen greeted them cordially, and while they 
were seated in the best room, she prepared and 
brought chocolate and cake. A number of young 
people began to arrive, and soon there was oppor- 
tunity for Atelia Heldman and Hr. Steen to study 
at close hand life among the Norwegian Latter- 
day Saints. 

Both Halvor and Atelia did not fail to notice 
the gladness with which each greeted the other. 
All shook hands and said good evening, and 
smiled, and chatted like so many dear friends 
who had not seen each other for a long time. They 


were all plainly of the middle and poorer 
classes. Still, to Atelia, they all seemed like 
brothers and sisters of the flesh, as they indeed 
were of the spirit. She studied them keenly. 
She realized as never before, because this was 
her first experience, that the same spirit which 
each of these people w§re in posession of had 
been also confeiTed upon her. In her baptism, 
she had been born again into a new world, — 
and here were some of its inhabitants! How 
would she like them, and their manner of living? 

As they gathered around the organ, played 
by one of the Olsen girls, they sang songs in 
which sentiments of ''Beautiful Zion" prevailed. 
From an artistic viewpoint, these songs and 
singers were not classical; but there was some- 
thing about them which made a still, sweet 
glow of joy penetrate the heart. Froken Held- 
man, the winner of the National Regatta, was 
not ashamed to be one with this simple company 
of honest people! 

About ten o'clock the company dispersed. 
Sister Olsen, who knew of Atelia's being a Church 
member, asked her to remain with them over 
night, which kindness was gladly accepted. 
Halvor went to a hotel; but before they parted 
he had tried to get Waldemar to promise to go 
with them to Christiania the next day. The 
missionary made excuses, the most vital though 
unmentioned one being that his friends travelled 
first class on the train, while he would have to 
be content with deck passage on a boat. 


ANY of the European railroad cars are 
divided into small compartments with 
entrance doors at the sides. One car may 
have three classes: the first class is 
furnished elegantly; the second is upholstered 
and is comfortable ; the third has painted wooden 
walls and seats. The compartment or coupe is 
a small room about eight feet square with seats 
on two sides across the car, facing each other. 
These small compartments may at times become 
very uncomfortable, especially if one is un- 
fortunate enough to have for his close company 
a number of smokers; but on other occasions, 
the coupe is "just the thing." 

On just such a favorable occasion Halvor 
and Atelia left Larvik on the train. They 
occupied a first class coupe, and Halvor had by 
a silver coin to the conductor purchased freedom 
from interference by other passengers. The day 
was cold enough to have the small charcoal 
heater in the floor lighted, so that everything 
was comfortable within. Atelia took off her hat, 
and leaned her head against the soft cushions. 
Halvor sat opposite. 

She had been very kind to him that day, and 


he thought of it as he sat looking at her face. 
Her eyes were closed as if she were resting 
them from the glare of the sun. He knew her 
to be always good and true, but recently there 
had been something added to her — a deeper ex- 
pression in her eyes, a sweeter smile on her lips, 
a milder tone, a firmer grip of his fingers when 
she grasped them in salutation — these were some 
of the parts of the added whole; and yet these 
did not express the whole. 

Halvor Steen did not know^ that Atelia had 
passed through the sanctifying baptism of water 
and of the Spririt, so it was not strange that 
he did not understand the nature of the change 
which he saw in her. But one thing was certain 
to him that day, and that was that the girl 
opposite him was a wonderfully charming one, 
and that he loved her more than ever. 

**Atelia," said he, "I saw a picture of you 
when I was in Christiania last." 

"Is that so? Where?'' 

'In a shop window in Karl Johan Street." 

'You're not in earnest? I haven't had a pho- 
tograph taken for at least two years." 

"That may be. I think you were about two 
years younger in this picture. There were two 
other girls in it besides you." 

'They surely are not displaying that picture!" 

'You remember it then?" 

'If it's the one I mean. Some two years ago, 
I and two other girls were up in Maartman's 




gallery. He rigged us up in Norwegian, Danish, 
and Swedish national costumes and had us pose 
for a picture. We were to represent the three 
Scandinavian nations, he said." 

"Yes, 'Norden' he has called it. See, here it 
is." He moved over by her side, and drawing 
the picture from his pocket, showed it to her. 

*The very thing," she laughed. "I have one 
at home." 

"I bought one to get the central standing 

*The other two girls are much prettier." 
"Not in my eyes." He held the picture at 
arms length. The other hand slid under her 
arm and held her close, so that she also might 
see from his view point. "What are you looking 
so intently at? You seem to be gazing into 
the distance." 

"I am supposed to be looking into our country's 
splendid future." 

"How unselfishly patriotic! There is then 
nothing personal in those soulful eyes under the 
shaded hand? I wish there might have been. 
If I had been in your thoughts for instance, the 
expression on your face would have told me 

"But Halvor," she said, with a gentle pressure 
of her arm on his, "I didn't know you very 
well then." 

The train slowed up for a station, then stopped. 
More passengers crowded in, but as they were 


fanners, the first class travelers were not 
disturbed. Halvor would have disputed any third 
person's right to share their coupe. The train 
rolled on through a wooded valley and skirted 
a lake on a road-bed cut from sohd rock. The 
berry foliage on the hills was tinted with yellow 
and red. 

Halvor and Atelia sat with arms linked, 
looking out of the car window. Was that which 
she had longed for, yet dreaded, now at hand? 
She trembled a little, and his arm slipped around 
her in a protecting way. She made no objection 
to Halvor's pressing her head to his shoulder. 

"Atelia," he said, ''it's going to be very lone- 
some for you at Heimstad." 

"It is already." 

"Then why not come and live with me at 

"I'm coming to visit with you when we get 
back from conference, you know." 

"Atelia, visit with mother; but come and live 
with me. I — I want you. Life is very lonesome 
without you, I have found that out. ... I love 
you . . . . " 

The three most wonderful words in language 
were spoken. 

He drew her close into his arms and kissed her ; 
and as he looked into that radiant face which 
reflected undimmed his own love, he took courage 
again, and his tongue found words. Gentle and 
low they were, for fear they might be heard 


above the rattle of the train, but charged with 
the fire of his soul. And she drank in his words 
as if they were the wine of life to her, for an 
instant looking intently into his face, then 
dropping her eyes in confusion at her burning 
cheeks. She clung to his hands with gentle 
fervor as if she also wanted him to stay with 
her and take away the loneliness which had come 
into her life. It seemed hard for her to answer 
his many questions, but as her actions spoke 
of her love louder than words, he was content. 
At length she got courage to say, as she nestled 

"Yes, Halvor, I do love you. I am lonesome 
without you ; I — I would have you by me always, 
Halvor, always, — and forever." 

"And you shall, my darling." 

Another station. How close they were to- 
gether — the stations! Why does the train need 
to stop at every hamlet? But this time the 
stop was not long, and they were soon off, 
climbing slowly a pine-clad mountain side. 

"And now," said Halvor, "when shall we two 
who love each other so much get married? If 
I had my way, we would go to Pastor Skogaard 
the moment we get to Christiania. He is an 
old friend of ours, and would be delighted to — " 

'Don't, Halvor; don't talk like that." 

'Forgive me dear; I am forgetting all the 
proprieties. You, of course, will want to make 
the proper announcements; and it will take you 




some time to prepare your trousseau and send 
out the invitations." 

Atelia disengaged herself from her lover, sat 
upright, and vent through the usual feminine 
toilet adjustments. The big brown braid was 
seriously disarranged, and by the time she had 
it safely in place, she had composed herself very 
well. Then she tried to lead the conversation 
to other topics than the one just considered; but 
Halvor would not be led away. 

"Can't you tell me, AteHa, about when we may 
be married? Why wait long? I see no reason 
for delay. We have known each other for a long 
time ; yes, and loved each other too, haven't we ?" 

Atelia nodded her assent, the last hairpin still 
between her hps. 

*'How would a month from today do?" 

"Oh, Halvor," she repHed, placing her hand 
on his arm, "I haven't promised to marry you 
at all." This with a smile, as if she were 
teasing him. 

"But, dear girl, you love me, and I love you, 
and the rest follows." 

"Yes, that's true; but — but not always.'* 

"No; but in our case, there is nothing to 

"Halvor, I told you I love you — and I do, 
Halvor, I do — but let that suffice for the 

The young man became silent as if not know- 
ing what to say. 


"The Lord will be good to us, Oh, yes, I know 
that," she added; ''but—" 

She struggled to keep back the tears, then 
wiped them away as she called herself a silly 
goose, and forced a little laugh. 

**I wish you would trust me, Atelia. You are 
holding something from me. Between us two 
there should be no secrets now. As our hearts 
are one, so also should be our thoughts and 
desires, should they not?" 

"Yes, they should." 

"Then why—" 

"Tunsberg!" shouted the guard as he opened 
the door of the train, which had slowed up and 
stopped ere the two travelers had well realized 
it. As this point was the end of the railroad 
journey, Halvor gathered wraps and grips, and 
they stepped out. The remainder of the way 
to Christiania was to be made by boat. Consult- 
ing a time-table, they learned that they had an 
hour to wait, which time they decided to spend 
in sight-seeing. Near by the station in Tunsberg, 
is a high hill, on top of which stands a tower. 
A few minutes walk up a roadway cut out of 
the solid rock, brought them to the top of the 
hill where they found quite a large, flat area 
covered with trees and a number of old ruins 
scattered about. The keeper of the tower, an old 
man, ascended the steps with them to the top. 
Then he told them of the town's history, that 




it was the oldest town in Norway and once had 
been an important stronghold; that the hill had 
once been strongly fortified, and many bloody 
scenes had been enacted there; that King Sverre 
had at one time besieged it for twenty years. 
The two young travelers were not in the best 
of mood to take the keenest interest in an old 
man's talk, even if his theme was such an 
interesting one as that of Tunsberg and its 
tower built to commemorate the town's one thou- 
sandth year of existence, so they listened as 
patiently as they could, with thoughts on other 
and nearer things, until they had to descend 
again and go on board the boat. The afternoon 
was closing when the boat slipped through the 
canal which here cuts a lov/ neck of land and 
opens a passage into Christiania fjord. 

Atelia put on her wraps and Halvor his over- 
coat and they paced arm in arm on the small 
deck. As the night came on, the moon arose 
over a wooded hill only to disappear behind a 
higher peak, then return. The waters of the 
fjord were still. The hills on both sides made 
a dark background to the shining sea. Where 
the fjord narrowed, lights twinkled from the 
dark strip of land lying between the lighter sea 
and sky. 

"You are tired," said Halvor to his companion. 
"Let us sit down here." They found chairs in 
the lee of the wind. He adjusted her wraps. 
**Do you feel cold?" he asked. 


"Oh, no; thank you; button your own coat." 
He did so. "What a beautiful night it is!" 
"I think the fjord is a much more beautiful 
highway of travel than the dusty, shaky, 
cramped cars." 

"Yes." The single monosylable was the extent 
of his reply for some time. Halvor Steen was 
busy with thoughts that would not away. Atelia 
was a puzzle to him. She loved him — words and 
acts told him that plainly, yet she would not 
promise to marry him. Why? Surely, she was 
not playing with him? But why should she do 
that? No ; that was absurd. She was an honest, 
honorable girl--.. Could there be anything in 
her associations with Elder Larsen and his re- 
ligion? A pang of jealousy shot through him 
at the thought. She was very open and free 
with Elder Larsen. Could there be — ? The 
night was getting cold. 

And the girl beside him that evening also had 
thoughts, which she could not put into words. 
They had to do with her love for Halvor, and 
the knowledge that she now had of his love for 
her. Her heart glowed with the thought, and 
yet there was a pain deep down that she could 
not wholly cover. Would God continue to be 
good to her and make him also see the light. 
"Be ye not unequally yoked together with un- 
believers." The apostle's admonition seemed to 
sound loudly in her ears. She had come across 
the passage just the other day. She had not 




been seeking for such advice, but rather hoping 
to find something which would justify her in 
another course ; but one can't run away from the 

What? Did you speak, Halvor?" 

'No; I said nothing." 

Then silence again, save the rhythmical sound 
of the steamer's machinery. The stars above 
were diamond points. Ateha looked up at them. 

Would she have to choose some day between 
love and duty? Would she have wisdom and 
strength if that time ever came? The Lord 
had been good to her. He had answered her 
prayers in the past; He would answer them in 
the future. She had prayed that Halvor Steen 
would not succeed where success might lift him 
up in pride of heart and make it harder for him 
to humble himself to the truth; and this had 
been answered, perhaps in his recent political 
failure. Yes, the Lord was with them. She 
would keep up her courage in doing what she 
knew to be right. 

"Atelia," said Halvor, "tell me why you will 
not promise to marry me." 

*T have not said I will not marry you, Halvor." 

"But you evade. I want to know why." 

She did not reply. 

"How long must I wait?" 

"I don't know." 

"A month — six months?" 

"I cannot tell you." 


"A year — ten years." 

"Oh, I hope not, Halvor." 

"But what is it that you cannot trust to me? 
I don't like this mystery. It isn't fair. You 
know my feehngs. You know my life, Atelia, 
and I tell you there isn't anything in it but that 
you may know. It hasn't been free from faults, 
I know^ well enough, but they are such as you 
can forgive." 

"Halvor," she whispered from her full heart, 
"I love you, only you, as I have told you. Is 
not that enough?" 

"No; it is not enough. If you love me, tell 
me you will marry me, and when. Give me a 
reason for your peculiar action." His tone was 
not kind. 

She drew away from him as if he had 
struck her. 

"You humiliate me," he went on — "But there, 
forgive me. Let us go down and have some- 
thing to eat." 

She declined. Then they sat in silence until 
the lights of the city came into view. In a short 
time the boat lay up to the wharf. Halvor 
hailed a carriage into which he placed Atelia 
who was going to stay with a friend. He himself 
was to lodge in a near-by hotel. 

"Goodnight," he said. "I shall call for you 
in the morning at about nine-thirty. Will that 
be early enough?" 

Yes; thank you; goodnight." 



T nine thirty next morning Halvor called 
for Atelia. She was ready, and together 
they walked to meeting. From the well- 
known Storgaden they turned up Oster- 
haus and soon arrived at No. 27, the Latter-day 
Saints' headquarters. They were much surprised 
to see Elder Larsen meet them at the entrance. 

"How and when did you get here?" they 
asked him. 

*This morning by the boat. Glad to see you. 
Come right along with me." 

He led the way up two flights of stairs to 
a landing which opened into a large assembly 
room, nearly filled with people. Elder Larsen 
found them a seat. 

Both Atelia and Halvor were somewhat sur- 
prised at what they saw as they now looked 
about them, for a picture of Elder Larsen's 
headquarters in Larvik had entered into their 
conception of Osterhaus 27. They understood, 
in a way, that the Latter-day Saints were largely 
of the humbler classes, for, as Elder Larsen had 
contended, "not many wise men after the flesh, 
not many mighty, not many noble," will listen 
to the testimony of simple mxen; but here was 
a very respectable looking class of people, and 



the room itself was beautiful. Its oval ceiling 
was tinted, and the wood-work shone with paint 
and varnish. Streamers of evergreen extended 
from each of the corners of the room to the 
large central chandeHer. Festoons of green 
adorned the walls. In front of the stand was 
an artistically arranged bank of green, reindeer 
moss, and flowers. 

On the stand sat about twenty men, the 
"Elders from Zion." Atelia and Halvor knew 
but two of them besides Elder Larsen. Most 
of them were young men and all had clear, open 
countenances. One of the Elders, whom the two 
visitors knew stepped down, shook hands, and 
gave them a hymn book. Then the President, 
or presiding Elder, announced a hymn which was 
sung by choir and congregation. There was 
prayer and more singing, then the Elders spoke. 
Some reported the condition of the work in their 
various fields, some related interesting experien- 
ces, and then one, a little more proficient in 
language it seemed, preached a sermon on the 
first principles of the gospel. 

The services were simple, and yet so full of 
spiritual uplift that Atelia sat as one entranced. 
The singing filled her heart with music; the 
beautiful principles of the gospel found welcome 
lodgment in her soul. She now realized more 
fully what it meant to be one with the people 
of God and to be entitled to receive the com- 
forting ministrations of the Holy Spirit. The 


light which had been kindled in her soul enlarged 
her vision and extended until she felt as though 
she was comprehending the eternal truths of 
the celestial world. "Seek ye first the kingdom 
of God and his rightousness ; and all these things 
shall be added unto you," were the closing words 
of the speaker. 

Atelia came to earth again. Beside her was 
Halvor Steen. Was he listening ? Was he being 
impressed? In her heart she prayed that he 
might be, for she had need of him, not only 
for her own happiness, but to help her in the 
I work which she saw devolved upon her for her 
departed kindred. She was seeking first the 
kingdom of God, — and He would surely add all 
she required. Yes, Halvor was listening with 
close attention. In her happiness, she had al- 
most forgotten yesterday's unpleasantness. 

At the close of the services Halvor and Atelia 
remained seated. Instead of passing out, most 
of the congregation lingered to shake hands and 
to exchange greetings. Halvor remarked to 
Atelia that it was the Larvik scene on a larger 
scale. Elder Larsen, shaking hands on his way 
to them, now introduced the President, a pleasant 
looking, gray-bearded man, who chatted with 
them for some time. Other Elders and some 
of the Saints were introduced to the beautiful 
young woman and her handsome companion, and 
many were the surmises as to what and who 
they were. Froken Heldman's fame as the win- 




ner at the season's national regatta had not, 
as a rule, penetrated to the secluded life of 
the church members. ^ 

Elder Larsen invited his two friends to the 
office, a small room on the same floor. He 
bade them to be seated while he excused 
himself for a moment, and when he returned, 
he found them looking at the photographs of 
the missionaries on the wall. 

"This isn't bad, Larsen," said Halvor. "Who 
are all these men in black frames?" 

"Oh, these are missionaries who have been 
here. See this one — that's my father. He was 
here on a mission ten years ago. And this — " 

The President here interrupted by an invitation 
to go with him for lunch, but as Atelia had 
promised to return to her friends, she had to 
decline. Arrangements were made, however, 
that she and Halvor were to accompany Elder 
Larsen and the President after the evening 

Meetings were held both afternoon and evening, 
both of which Atelia and Halvor attended. 

"I am breaking the record," said he. 

"In what way?" 

"I have never been to three religious meetings 
in one day before." 

"You're not tired?" 

"Not at all; it's quite interesting." 

After the evening meeting they went out on 
the street with a party of friends. The 


threatened rain had come, so umbrellas were in 

"Here," said Waldemar to Halvor, "take my 
umbrella. "Your Nonvegian article was never 
made to shelter two. This big American one 

covers some area." 

"Thank you," said Halvor, as he accepted the 
offer, "I never quite appreciated your ugly um- 
brella before." 

Atelia clung closely to his arm. Brother and 
Sister Void, whom they were to visit, lived in 
a basement floor, but their rooms were neat and 
clean, and the little company was warmly wel- 

The evening passed very pleasantly. Atelia 
talked with the girls who at first were a little 
shy. All of them were working girls, but they 
were bright and intelligent. Atelia was especially 
drawn to those of them who had personally 
investigated the gospel, and had by accepting its 
principles, drawn upon them the contempt of 
former friends and the persecution of parents. 
Surely, here was strength of character which 
she had not met in girls before. Her own trials 
dimmed before some which her sisters had 

"I haven't been home for three months," said 
one of them, a tall, quiet girl whose big blue 
eyes filled with tears as she spoke. "I work at 
the cotton factory, and live with an old lady 
up in Nydal. I have three sisters and a brother, 



a little fellow who thinks the world of me. It 
was largely on his account that I ventured home- 
ward last. I had intended to go to a neighbor's 
first, but little Olof saw me, and with a shout 
came running. Father looked out of the door, 
and seeing me coming up the path, closed the 
door in my face." 

The company partook of a dainty luncheon, 
then they sang songs until it was time to go 
home. Halvor retained his big umbrella, though 
the rain had nearly ceased. 

The next morning Halvor told Atelia that he 
had received a message from home which would 
necessitate his leaving during the day. Was she 
ready to go with him? She hesitated, explain- 
ing that she had promised to take part with 
some of her friends in a little trip on the Fjord 
and to "Laadergaardsoen's" pleasure gardens. 
Well, he could remain most of the day. Would 
she go with him towards evening? She paused 
again, and Halvor was annoyed. Did she prefer 
the company of these others to his own? He 
did not press her for a definite answer, but 
accepted without further words the plans for 
the morning. They sailed on the Fjord. The 
white walls of Oscar's Hall gleamed from the 
green setting, and the beauty of the place invited 
them across the water; but all that morning 
there were clouds in Halvor's sky which Atelia 
could not dispel. 

"Well," asked he, "are you going with me 














►— • 



this evening?" They were sitting by themselves 
in a warm, sunny opening of the trees on a 

"There is a meeting in the hall tonight which 
I should very much like to attend," said Atelia. 

"Haven't you had enough ? What's one meeting 
more or less, when I want you, Atelia?" he 

"I promised Elder Larsen — " 

"Never mind Elder Larsen. Promise me some- 
thing also." 

"Halvor, don't be angry. This is a meeting 
of church members — I mean, this is the sacra- 
ment meeting, and — " 

"And — well, let the Church members attend. 
I don't like to go home alone and I don't think 
you do either." 

"I am sorry you have to go so soon. I was 
thinking of remaining a few days more with 
Elder Larsen's friends and with Froken Berg. 
She complained only this morning of my leaving 
her to go to so many meetings." 

"Well, I'm selfish, I suppose," laughed Halvor; 
at which Atelia breathed easier, thinking a 
certain crisis which seemed about to arise had 
passed ; but the very next remark Halvor made, 
brought back her fears. 

"What is this meeting tonight?" he asked. 
"I have heard no announcement of it." 

"No; I was just told of it by Elder Larsen." 
"Oh, it's a sort of secret affair, is it?" 


"Not at all. I have never attended a sacra- 
ment meeting, so I can't say anything about it." 

"Well, Atelia, I might stretch a point and 
remain until after the meeting. I'll look up a 
time table and see if there is a late train." 

Atelia was troubled. This sacrament meeting 
was for members only. Elder Larsen had ex- 
plained that this precaution was taken because 
the strict letter of the law in Norway forbade 
the Mormons from performing any religious 
ceremony or rite. A number of times they had 
gotten into trouble by someone informing on 
them. The law was a dead letter, but when 
someone made trouble, the officers had to take 
some notice. Halvor certainly could be trusted; 

Halvor saw the troubled expression on her 
face, and then another thing suddenly came to 
him. "You said this meeting was for church 
members only. I forgot. That lets me out. 
Your invitation was a special one I suppose." 

"No, Halvor, it wasn't." She arose and looked 
down the hill to the little party of friends by 
the water. They seemed to be amusing them- 
selves in a game. She wished they would call 
to Halvor and her to come and join them, but 
they did not. What could she do? There was 
a struggle for a moment, then she turned to 
Halvor and said with as much freedom as she 
could muster, "Halvor, I'll go with you home 
this afternoon — as soon as you want to go.' 



"And miss your meeting?" 


"Atelia, you have an invitation to attend a 
meeting where my presence is not desired." His 
pleasantry had left him, and his speech was 
terse and emphatic. "You were going to this 
meeting; but my offer to remain spoiled some- 
thing. What does it mean? Are you treating 
me right? .... If your invitation was not a 
special one, then you must also be a church 
member. Atelia, are you?" 

She could have cried, but she must not do 
that. She must control herself; she must not 
drive him aw^ay; but what could she say other 
than the simple truth. 

"You do not answer me. I want to know. 
Atelia, are you a member of the Mormon 
Church ?" 

"Yes — " timidly with downw^ard glance; then 
raising her head as if ashamed of her own 
timidity, "Yes, Halvor, I am a member of the 
Mormon Church ; but Halvor" — again her tone 
became tender — "you do not understand about 
this meeting. Let me explain." 

"You need not. I don't understand. I am 
a simpleton. I am not one of the initiated. You 
have joined the Mormons and I did not know. 
Why haven't I been told before?" Halvor was 
angry now. 

She could not answer all his questions. She 


held up her arm to her face as if to shield 
herself from the cruel blows of his words ; but 
she kept her presence of mind, due, she knew 
afterwards, to the prayer vrhich was in her heart. 
After the first outburst of anger, Halvor grew 
silent as if with pain of soul. It was all right 
to associate with Mormon Elders, to listen to 
their talk, and even to attend their meetings; 
but to become members of the Church — 
well, that was too much; and to think that 
Atelia, this Atelia who stood before him now 
with heaving breast and quivering lips, beautiful, 
yes, more beautiful than ever — that she was a 
Mormon, she whom he had just a few hours 
before asked to be his wife, she who had rested 
her head on his shoulder and had said that she 
loved him ! .... Then his anger rose again. 

''Halvor,". she said, ''the steamer is coming, 
and I think the folks want us to go dovv^n. 
I'll go with you home." 

"No; you'll stay to your meeting." 

"I would rather not." 

"I want you to. Com.e, they are beckoning us." 
They went down the hill to where the 

little pleasure boat was just tying to the shore. 

The party embarked, and they were soon landed 

back in Christiania. 

Halvor took Atelia to Froken Berg, where she 
was staying. 

"Won't you come in?" she asked at the door. 


**No; I'll have to hurry to catch the train." 
"When — when shall I see you again?" 
"Why, when you come to visit with mother- 
on your way home." 

"Do you want me to come?" 

"Yes; I do want you to." 

"Are you sure?" 

"I am very sure, Atelia." 

"Then Til come. Goodby until then." 




HE headache which AteHa complained of 
to Froken Berg that afternoon was not 
feigned; her heart ached also. She went 
to her room, and had a good cry as she 
lay across her bed. The cry helped a little, so 
that from the confusion of suffering and con- 
flicting emotions, she could get a little orderly 

Had Halvor left her for good? No; she was 
to visit with him at Strand. But was not that 
just the gallantry of carrying out his promise? 
Had she lost him by becoming a Mormon? 
Well, she hoped not, prayed not; but with the 
pain accompaning the thought, there also came 
a stiffening of her resolution to be true to her 
convictions. She knew she had done nothing 
wrong. She knew she had more of the light 
of heaven, more truth, more power to overcome ; 
and when one's resolutions are based on know- 
ledge such as this, the victory is well under way. 

As she lay now with eyes open, looking out 
of the window at the closing day, she thought 
of Halvor on the train alone. She would gladly 
have gone with him, though plainly, he did not 
believe that. His journey home would be quite 



different from the one they had taken together. 
She admitted that Halvor had real cause for 
complaint, for how could he know that under- 
neath her peculiar actions there was nothing but 
the best wishes for him? Yes; he had some 
justification. She had admitted to him that she 
wanted to beat him at the boat race for a pur- 
pose, but she would not tell him what that 
purpose w^as; she had acknowledged that she 
loved him, but would not promise to marry him ; 
she had joined a very unpopular religion, and 
had not told him of it; she was going to a 
meeting where he was not invited. Surely no 
man with any spirit would fail to be offended 
at her. But what could she do more than she 
was doing? 

The tears w^ere near the surface that after- 
noon, and she turned her face to the pillow again. 
The noise of the city came through the open 
window like the hum of many insects in a field 
on a summer day. The short afternoon closed, 
and darkness came on. Atelia was tired, and 
as she closed her eyes, peace came to her, and 
she fell asleep. 

When she awoke, she sat up with a start, and 
looked at her watch. She had slept soundly, 
and the meeting hour had arrived to the minute. 
She could not get there in time; she would have 
to miss it altogether. Why had she slept so 
long? But she was feeling much better, thanks 
for that. 


A gentle knock came on the door, and Atelia 
opened it, admitting Froken Berg. 

"Oh, is it you, Christine, come in." 

''Did I disturb you?" 

''No! I had a nice nap; but I was awake 
when you knocked." 

"I was anxious about you. How is your head?" 

"Much better — but do you know, I slept so 
long that I am too late for a meeting which 
I wanted to attend." 

"You've done nothing but attend meetings 
since you've been here. What is the nature of 
these wonderful meetings, Atelia?" 

"Why, don't you know ? I thought I told you." 

"Only that they are held at Osterhausgade 27 ; 
but that must be a mistake. I looked up that 
number today, and found that that is the head- 
quarters of the Mormons." 

The two girls were sitting by the dressing 
table. Oh, dear, thought Atelia, here is more 
trouble; but she said, "No; there is no mistake; 
I have been attending Mormon meetings." 

"But surely, Atelia, you know of the bad name 
these people have! What in the world — " 

"Yes; I have heard of their bad reputation; 
but I know their character, and, as we were 
saying the other day, those two things are 
quite different." 

'But is there any good in the Mormons?" 
'That sounds very much like a question that 
was asked by Nathanael of old when he heard 



of Jesus, and that he came from Nazareth." 

^'What do you mean?" 

" 'Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?* 
he asked; and Philip's answer was, 'Come and 
see.' " 

Froken Berg w^as plainly annoyed, so Atelia 
said no more; she did not wish to lose another 
old friend; but Froken Berg, after a moment 
persisted : 

"I had no idea, Atelia, you were attending 
Mormon meetings. Johanna Franson was telling 
me something today, and that's why I became 
interested. Don't you think it's foolish to con- 
tinue your visits? It's well enough to go once 
for curiosity, and I w^ould like to go with you 
for that, but to make a practice — why, people 
will think you also are a Mormon." 

Atelia did not reply. She took refuge for the 
moment in the basin of cold water in which 
she was bathing her face ; but her friend went on : 

"You ought to be careful, Atelia. People are 
talking already." 

"People must have something to talk about," 
replied Atelia through the towel. 

"But I wouldn't like to be spoken about as the 
Mormons are." 

"No; none of us would like that; but, Christine, 
did it ever occur to you that people are some- 
times held up to scorn because they have the 
truth. Sometimes the truth is unpopular." 

"What nonsense." 


"But, Christine," — Atelia was re-arranging 
her thick braids, which httle business helped her 
to make it appear that she was only casually 
discussing this matter — *Vou are acquainted with 
your Bible, and you can there read that the 
first Christians were ^everywhere spoken 
against/ That wasn't because they were a bad 
people, was it?" 

"But it's different now. We live in a civilized 
age, a modem country. Christians are no longer 

"I know of some who are — but let's not talk 
about that any more. I'm hungry. Have you 
something good to eat?" 

They went down stairs. Atelia did not intend 
to dramatically proclaim herself a Mormon, and 
thus bring on a scene; but she chose the wiser 
way, and, instead of going to her meeting that 
evening, she adroitly got her friend to listen 
to her expound some of the beautiful principles 
of the gospel. After the first struggle of resent- 
ment, Christine Berg sat quite still and Hstened 
to her friend, and it was not until the close 
of the evening when she had mellowed under 
the influence of the gospel spirit, that she learned 
that what she had been drinking in so readily 
was Mormonism, and further, that Atelia herself 
was a Mormon. These revelations stunned the 
young woman into silence for the remainder 
of the evening and AteHa was permitted to go 


to bed in peace, and to forget for a time the 
sorrow of her own heart. 

Froken Berg was off to her work before 
Atelia came down next morning. After a light 
breakfast, Ateha went out for a walk down 
to the water. She was uncertain what she 
should do, and she needed time to think. A big 
ocean steamer was being loaded at the pier, 
and she soon became interested in watching the 
work. Her father had sailed many such ships, 
and she had sailed with him a number of times. 
Once, she recalled, she had gone to Spain, and 
at her return, she had been called Senora Held- 
man, for people said the additional brown in 
her cheecks had made her look like a Spanish 

beauty That morning she lingered for some 

time about the wharf with its shipping and 
suggestions of sea-faring life, all of which had 
its interest for her; then she walked up to 
Karl Johan Street, and as she had seen Henrik 
Ibsen do, she looked leisurely in the shop 
windows. In one of the art stores she saw 
"Norden" enlarged from the original photograph 
and beautifully tinted and framed. She looked 
closely at the central figure, and recalled what 
Halvor had said about the wistfull, far-away 
look. Yes, it was there, but then it was rather 
more prophetic than real. 

She walked on nearly up to the King's Castle, 
crossed the street, went back on the other side 
to Stor Street then to the market square. The 


market was always interesting. Among the 
women who sold apples and berries was a sister 
— a member of the Church. Elder Larsen had 
pointed her out one day, but had explained that 
he rarely w^ent near her for the reason that he 
could not get away without having to take her 
gifts of fruit, which he surmised often played 
havoc with her profits. However, Ateha saw 
her this morning, went up to her, chatted for 
some time, and she too w^ent away with the 
gift of an apple. 

Before she was well aware, Atelia found her- 
self in Osterhausgade. The street seemed to 
draw her. She wanted to talk with somebody, 
and who better could advise her than the 
President. She would call on him. She went 
a Httle timidly up the stairs. All was quiet. 
She met none of the Elders. She knocked on 
the office door, and the President himself let 
her in. 

"You are with us yet?" he asked, as he gave 
her a seat, and perched himself again on the 
high office stool by the desk at which he had 
been working. ''Are you enjoying yourself?" 

She assured him that the meetings had been 
a source of great strength to her. Now would 
he have time to talk to her. She wanted some 

The President slid from the stool, drew a chair 
up to the table where his visitor was sitting 
and asked, ''Now, what can I do for you?" 


Atelia had difficulty in beginning. The Presi- 
dent saw it, and talked pleasantly to her. *lt 
takes courage for a person of your station in life 
to do as you have done," he said. ''You have 
had trials, which, I take it, are not yet ended. 
The sailing will not always be smooth, but as 
I understand, you are a good sailor, you ought to 
weather any storm." 

''Especially with such a fine, staunch craft 
as the good ship Zion," Atelia said and smiled 
back at the President's pleasant and personal 
figures of speech. 

Then when there seemed perfect confidence 
established between the two, Atelia told him her 
story. His face lighted up like the face of her 
father, she thought, as she told him of Captain 
Heldman and his interest in the gospel. She 
told him of her father's death, and of the con- 
dition of the estate ; of her Uncle Sande's actions ; 
and by this time she could with less difficulty 
approach the subject just then nearest her heart 
— that of the state of things between herself 
and Halvor Steen. She had questioned herself 
whether or not she could counsel with anyone 
other than the Lord on this matter, but the 
President drove away any fears, as she went 
on with her story and her problems. He listened 
quietly until she had finished, then he began: 

"First, let me say that I appreciate your con- 
fidence, and shall respect it. Not many young 
people, now-a-days, will bring their love problems 


to the counsel of father and mother, or others 
who might act as such. That you have done 
so speaks well for you, and I hope I shall be 
able to help you." 
'Thank you." 

"The ways of the Lord are wonderful, as 
instanced in your case in bringing to you the 
gospel, and preparing your heart to receive it. 
In due time, as Elder Larsen has told you, your 
father and mother and all your worthy dead 
will be taken care of. You said that you are 
the last of your father's family ; but what about 
your mother's?" 

'*0h, there are a lot of them." 

"Then you have a duty to them also. The 
living should have the privilege of hearing the 
gospel, for the sooner we get into the way of 
Hfe, the sooner we will reach the goal; but you 
will have to have a man to help you." 

"So Elder Larsen also said." The sHght em- 
phasis on "man" did not escape her. 

"And I suppose you hope Hr. Steen will be 
that man." 


"I too hope so, dear sister, for he impressed 
me as being a clean, honest young man. He 
thinks a lot of you, I imagine." 

"He has said as much." 

"And you — pardon me, but we are to be very 
free with our confidences, you know.' 




"Yes," she answered, with just a tint of rising 
color, "I like him very much." 

**Love is a great thing — a great power; but it 
must be genuine. You have had and still have 
beautiful ideas of love." 

"I've always thought of it as the greatest 
thing in the w^orld." 

"You have read that in a book, haven't you?" 
There was a little good-natured banter in his 

"Why, yes; I have read it in a book." 

"Don't you know that books are often not 
true to life, unnaturally idealistic in fact." 

"Yes, some books are; but this one from 
which I quote is a standard, and by a good 
author." She was following his lead. 

"I am not well versed in your literature." 

"But this is your literature." She reached 
for a Bible on the table. "It is found in First 
Corinthians, thirteenth chapter. Let me read 
you a quotation: 'Love suffereth long, and is 
kind .... beareth all things, believeth all things, 
hopeth all things, endureth all things. Love 
never f aileth .... And now abideth faith, hope, 
love, these three; but the greatest of these is 
love.' " 

"You have proved your case," said the Presi- 
dent with a smile. "Now let us go a little deeper 
into this question of love being the greatest 
thing in the world. Seeing that you have led 
the way, I'll quote a little Scripture also: 'Love 


is of God/ for *God is love/ How is that 
love manifest? 'God so loved the world that he 
gave his only begotten Son that whosoever 
believeth in him should not perish, but have 
everlasting life/ Jesus also declared: 'As the 
Father hath loved me, so have I loved you,' 
meaning his disciples. Paul tells us that faith 
is a most powerful principle, doesn't he?" 

"Yes," said the girl as the President paused 
for a reply. 

"He also tells that faith becomes a power 
only when it is applied in some action; for, as 
you know, 'faith without works is dead.' Now, 
follow me, sister: may not the nature of love 
be essentially that of faith? that is, love is not 
love until it is made manifest in action. As 
examples, God manifested his love for us by 
sending his Son to us; that Son showed us his 
love by laying down his life for us. In fact, 
the scriptures are full of this thought: 'He that 
hath my commandments, and keepeth them, he 
it is that loveth me.' " 

Atelia listened attentively, wondering just 
what the President was coming to. 

"Now, love is wonderful, powerful — yes, the 
biggest thing in the world, as you said. It 
has come to us from the eternity of the past; 
it will reach into the eternity of the future. 
Love will never fail, for God is love, and that's 
the reason. Now — " and the President hitched 
his chair nearer the table and lowered his voice 


a little, "let us get down to earth, to Non^^ay, 
to Heimstad, and Osterhaus 27. What profit 
is there in your loving a man who will not be- 
lieve the gospel, will not repent and be baptized 
for the remission of sins. Such a man may 
w^alk with you for a time in this world, and you 
may enjoy his company for a season, but if he 
persists in his way and you persist in yours, as 
sure as we are sitting here, your paths will 
diverge, and in time will become so far apart 
that you will be lost to each other. Your love 
for him may be as deep, as wide as eternity; 
but the only way it can save him is for it to 
move him to action towards the right." 

Atelia's heart seemed to stop for a moment; 
then it beat hard as if it would burst; a wave 
of fear swept through it. 

"This talk of love, as it is generally under- 
stood," continued the President, "being able to 
accomplish impossibilities, is deceptive. The 
sooner we look the plain, sometimes hard truth 
in the face, the better. Men and women swear 
undying love to each other. The mere expression 
of their feelings, they think, is enough to bind 
them together forever. They forget that law 
governs in this world as in all worlds, and to 
obtain any desired end or condition, the law 
upon which it is predicated must be ob- 
served. To get into the kingdom of heaven — the 
only place in the future where men and women 
associate as husbands and wives — one must enter 


in at the door, which is the gospel of our Lord 
Jesus Christ." 

AteHa looked across the table with swimming 
eyes, but she said nothing. 

*'Now, then, I have hurt you by my words, 
and you came here to get some comfort. But 
you are a brave girl. You can look unflinchingly 
at the truth. You do not want comfort at the 
sacrifice of principle or truth. Peace will come 
at the end of every good fight, rest and happi- 
ness will follow every valiant struggle. Your 
faith, your love will carry you through." 

'^But, but " 

*'I know; you are thinking of Halvor Steen. 
He at present is angry with you. If he loves 
you, that will soon pass. If he wants you, he 
wull place himself in a position to get you. If 
he doesn't love you enough to sacrifice a vain 
pride, or in fact, anything and everything other 
than truth and right, you do not want him 
to be your mate for time and eternity. Think 
of that, my dear young sister. I wish all our 
girls would think of that more. The gospel 
gives us such glorious ideals of what the future 
will be. How can our sisters be satisfied with 
anything but the noblest and the best in us?" 

"Shall I give up Halvor Steen?" 

"No, no; the fight is hardly begun. You are 
a woman, and he is a stubborn man; but you 
have the advantage in that you have a right 
to the ministrations of the Holy Ghost, and He 


will give you keener insight, better judgment, 
greater strength. Be wise, do not compromise 
yourself or the truth, but give Halvor no occasion 
to think your joining the Church has made 
any difference in your feelings toward him." 
. "Thank you very much for your advice. I 
shall try to follow it. Now, do you think it 
would be wise for me to call at Strand on my 
way home and visit with Frue Steen? I have 
promised, but — " 

The President thought for a moment before 
he said, "Wait a few days. There is no hurry 
about your going home. If your friend with 
whom you are staying makes it unpleasant for 
you, let me know and I shall find you a com- 
fortable place with one of our sisters. Yes, I 
should say, call at Strand." 

"Now thank you again." She arose to go. 
At the door he took her hand. "God bless you," 
he said — " and I bless you!" His lips moved 
as if in silent prayer for her. Then he smiled 
up into her face, and a sweet joy welled into her 
heart as she left him standing in the doorway 
and passed quietly down the stairs. 



HE very next day Atelia received a letter 

from Halvor's mother, inviting her to 

call and spend at least a week with them. 

One more day she lingered in Christiania 

with the Saints and Elders, then she took the 

train for Strand. 

As she had not notified them of her coming, 
no one was at the station to meet her. Knowing 
Frue Steen's opinion on the right form in such 
matters, she was driven to the Steen residence 
in a carriage. 

The mother welcomed her warmly. She was 
a finely preserved woman who carried her gray 
head high. She was of the few "best families" 
of democratic Norway who prided themselves 
on not belonging to the common people. 

"Halvor is not at home today, but I'll do my 
best until he comes," said the mother pleasantly. 
**We two shall get along nicely." 

"I am sure we shall." 

Halvor Steen was a fish buyer for a number 
of firms in Skien and Christiania, and his 
business took him from home on trips up the 
coast. The day after Atelia's arrival he came 
home. He appeared to be very glad to see her, 
chatted with her pleasantly, but there was no 


more love making. He did not seem inclined to 
follow up the beginning he had made in the train 
on the way to Christiania; and, truth to tell, 
Atelia was better pleased that things should go 
along slowly at present. In their chats around 
the dinner table, the subject of religion was not 
broached, and it seemed to Atelia from discem- 
able indications that Halvor and his mother had 
agreed on this course. How much he had told 
his mother, she did not know. If the mother 
knew of her guest's relations with the Mormons, 
she bore her knowledge with much care. 

However, on the third afternoon of her visit, 
after Halvor had bade her goodby until the next 
day, Atelia was told by Frue Steen that they 
were to have Pastor Fjelbo for supper that 
evening. Atelia wondered whether there was a 
purpose in this visit, other than the regular 
call of the pastor on the members of his flock. 
Her fears were confirmed when the mother 
continued : 

"My dear, I hope you will not be offended 
at anything the pastor might say. He has heard 
of your interest in these Latter-day Saints, and 
so I have invited him to call and have a talk 
with you." 

Atelia winced, but managed nicely to hide 
her annoyance. "I am sure I shall not be offended, 
she replied. "He is a gentleman, I suppose." 

"Oh, a very fine man, and so learned. You 
would do well to listen carefully to him." 


"I am always open to instruction, Frue Steen. 
I hope I never shall get too old or too bigoted 
to learn." 

'That's right, my dear." 

Pastor Fjelbo came promptly on time. He 
was not an old man, was very pleasant in 
manner and speech, and during the dinner, he 
talked of boat racing, ski running, and other 
''innocent pleasures." Atelia noted with interest 
his maneuvering to get around to the subject 
he had in hand. But it was clumsily done, and 
he v/as not warned of the rough water on the 
sea of religious controversy on which he was 
about to embark. 

"The other evening," he began at the close 
of the eating, 'T attended a lecture given by a 
friend of mine on Utah and the Mormons. He 
has visited Utah, and he found a bad state of 
things there." 

"Indeed," exclaimed Frue Steen. 

"Yes; I am sorry that some of our people are 
being deluded. I hope Pastor Mortensen will be 
successful in his good work of exposing the 
Mormon propaganda." 

Atelia felt her ears bum, and she was sure 
her cheeks were scarlet; but she controlled 

"Did you say Pastor Mortensen had personally 
visited Utah?" asked the mother. 

"Yes; and that makes his testimony reliable. 


He has written a book, which, I am glad to say, 
is having a large sale." 

**And therefore making Pastor Mortensen a 
nice sum of money," added Atelia in as calm 
a tone as she could command. 

"He deserv^es success in such a worthy under- 
taking, I am sure," said the pastor. "Now, don't 
you think so, Froken Heldman?" 

"I have read his book," answered the young 
woman, "and my opinion is that it was written 
to cater to a popular clamor against a much 
misunderstood and misrepresented people rather 
than to tell the truth." 

"Atelia!" exclaimed Frue Steen in protest. 

"It is full of absurd stories which I am sur- 
prised that any intelligent Norwegian should 

"For instance — " suggested the Pastor. 

"Did you ever, pastor, look at the map of 
the United States, and note where Utah is 
located — surrounded on every side by other 
states, all of which are inhabited by Christian 
people. Do you think for a moment that the 
United States government would allow murders 
to be committed, as daily occurrances, the govern- 
ment mail service to be tampered with, and a 
general condition of anarchy to prevail — all 
caused by a handfull of people within its borders? 
Such stories are silly if they were not so 

Atelia was aroused. Let the traducers of her 


people beware. The Pastor reddened for a 
moment, while Frue Steen was shocked. 

''We must believe what a man says he has 
seen with his own eyes, Froken Heldman," urged 
the pastor. 

**We must believe nothing of the kind, if he 
tells lies — and I know there are lies in Pastor 
Mortensen's book. I know the Mormon people, 
I know what they teach. Have you, Pastor, ever 
read a book written by a Moimon explaining 
Mormonism V 

"No — I can't say I have — but — '' The wind 
was a little strong for sailing further in that 
direction, so the Pastor changed his course. "I 
was acquainted with your father," he said ; ''also 
your old pastor up in Heimstad district. You 
remember him, I dare say?" 

"Oh, yes; he was a good man in his way, and 
I respect him even if his preaching was not 
what one might wish." 

"He taught you the catechism and confirmed 
you, did he not?" 


"Well, the recollection of these days, and the 
influence of these teachings ought to be with 
you yet." 

"They are." Atelia had composed herself 
again. "The good I learned in my childhood, I 
hope will always remain with me. The false 
teachings I received, I want to forget." 


"And so you think you were not taught the 
truth r 

"'Not in all things. Because our fathers, and 
their fathers before them believed a certain 
system of theology to be true doesn't make it 
true. If age makes truth, then we should all 
be Roman Catholics, or heathens, if we go 
further back in time." 

Frue Steen had arisen, and stood very much 
chagrined at what was taking place. "Will you 
not have another cup of coffee, pastor," she 
asked, as if to make a break in this unpleasant- 
ness. The Pastor declined. 

"You seem to be well informed on everything 
Mormon," said the Pastor to Atelia. "Perhaps 
you can tell me how the Mormons have added 
new scriptures to the Christian Bible." 

"With pleasure. We — the Mormons believe 
the Bible as strongly as any Christian people; 
but they also believe that God can and has 
revealed more of his word in our day. Here is 
the good old Luther's catechism which we studied 
at school." She picked up the little brown book 
from the table and opened it. "On the first 
page I read this: 'The Bible was written by 
prophets, apostles, and other holy men whom 
God inspired.' That's true — we all believe that. 
The Bible says further that these scripture 
writers wrote as they were moved upon by the 
Spirit of God. Now, do we have in our day 
any good men who are moved upon by the Spirit 
of God?" 


She paused, but the others did not reply. 

"If we have, and they write under that in- 
fluence, why is not that as much the word of 
God as if it were written a thousand years ago V 
She looked at the Pastor for a reply. 

**I am not bound to reply to your foolish ques- 
tions, I hope." 

"I beg your pardon. Pastor, for doing all the 
preaching." She laughed as if she too wished 
to close the discussion. ''Shall I tell you about 
these other Mormon scriptures?" 

"Not at all, Froken Heldman." He arose. 
"Now I must be going," he said to Frue Steen, 
who without any remonstrance, fetched his hat 
and stick. He bade a formal good-day to Atelia. 
Frue Steen went with him to the door, remained 
there for a few minutes talking, then she came 
back to Atelia who had seated herself on the 
sofa, awaiting results. 

"Ateha," said Frue Steen, her face pale with 
anger, "what possessed you to insult the Pastor 
like that? Why did you defend the Mormons? 
What are they to you ? . . . . the scum of the 
earth ! Answer me ! . . . . It's a disgrace . . . . " 

Atelia must now control herself. The other 
woman stood before her in high rage. Stoop, 
Atelia, stoop to conquer. 

"I invited him here, — and to receive such treat- 
ment — in my own house! What are you that 
you should set yourself up as a judge of rehgion 
and our ministers? The Mormons — !" this last 


with the finest scorn of which the angry woman 
was capable. 

*'I am sorry, Frue Steen." 

*'You are not sorry. You glory in what you 
did. Are you — are you a Mormon? Surely not," 
she fairly gasped, as the thought came to her. 

"I am Atelia Heldman, daughter of Captain 
Heldman. What matters it to what church I 

"Much to me. A Mormon would disgrace my 

"All right, Frue Steen," said Atelia, as she 
arose, "I shall leave immediately." 

"Are you a Mormon, then?" 

"I am!" 

The woman sank into a chair as if she had 
received a mortal wound. She moaned and wrung 
her hands. Atelia stood looking at her for a 
moment, then went up to her as if she wanted 
to help her; but in what way she knew not. 
Ateha's anger was gone. She was sorry, and 
her heart ached not only for this woman, but 
for some one else; as she stood there, not 
knowing just what to say or do, she did not 
forget that a Mormon was disgracing the house. 

"I had better get my things and go," said the 

"No, no; I didn't mean that — I — I — You must 
not leave like this. You are Halvor's guest as 
well as mine. You must stay until he comes 
back. Poor boy!" 



Poor boy! What did that mean? That her 
son should be entangled in the meshes of a vile 
Mormon? That did hurt. To have become 
righteously angry then, and to have walked out 
of the house with high head, would have been 
the easier thing to do. But Atelia was not to 
do the easier things, but the right things, the 
wise things, no matter how hard they might be. 
One never repents of not showing one's anger. 
Temper is a good thing, keep it. Atelia swallowed 
the "lump in her throat." 

"I'll go up to my room now," said Atelia. 
"Halvor will be home tomorrow, and I'll not 
leave until he gets back, if you wish it that 

Nothing more was said. Atelia came down 
again before going to bed, but as Frue Steen 
had retired, she walked for half an hour in the 
rear garden. 

Halvor got home early next morning. In fact, 
he walked in while his mother and Ateha were 
eating a late breakfast. He was in fine spirits, 
and chatted pleasantly, telling of some interesting 
experiences of his trip. 

"And, Atelia," he said, I believe I have found 
a buyer for your boat. I fell in with an English- 
man who saw that race at Langesund, and when 
I showed him a picture of the winner, he became 
very much interested. He wanted to know your 
name, where you lived, and the price of 'The 




Blue Bird.' — Mother aren't you well this 

After breakfast Atelia and Halvor walked out 
anto the garden. The morning was bright and 
clear. There had been a touch of frost during 
the night, and the leaves were falling. As the 
two reached the summer house at the foot of 
the garden, Atelia sat down and asked Halvor 
to take the seat on the other side of the 
rustic table. 

"I want to talk with you, if you have time," 
she said. 

'T have all the time there is this morning." 

"Halvor, why did your mother invite me here ?" 

"Because I asked her to." 

"But you did not tell her I had joined the 
Mormon Church." 

"No; I did not. I did not think that was 

"Of course she knew I associated with Mor- 
mons, and attended their meetings." 

"Yes; she knew that." 

"Well, yesterday she asked Pastor Fjelbo to 
dinner. He attacked the Mormons, and I de- 
fended them. Your mother became very angry 
at me, saying that a Mormon would disgrace her 

"Surely mother didn't say that." 

"In her anger, she hardly knew what she 
was doing; and that was before I told her I 
was a member of the Church. That is what 


is the matter with your mother this morning. 
So I had better leave as soon as possible." 

Halvor's face was a puzzle, as he looked out 
through the vines to the river, and his fingers 
nervously tapped the table. 

''But, Atelia, you do not know what this means 
to me," he said, turning to her. '*I don't know 
what to say or do. I am at sea. I don't under- 
stand you, and I lay it to your becoming a 
Mormon. I can't help that thought, and that 
doesn't promote any good feeling in my heart 
towards the Mormon Church and its Elders. 
Atelia, the Mormon Church has crowded me out 
of your heart!" 

"No, Halvor; it hasn't, it hasn't." 

*Tt seems so to me. I'll admit I was interested 
in some of the Mormon teachings, but now I 
can't get rid of a hard feeling against the name." 

''You must get rid of that, Halvor. The Church 
is your best friend, and the Elders would do 
anything to help you." 

"Even to the taking away of one that I have 
given my whole heart to?" he replied with a 
touch of bitterness .... "Don't go, Atelia. Stay 
here, stay with me!" He reached across the 
table and took her hand. "I must have you — 
I can't give you up!" 

"You need not give me up, Halvor. I have 
not changed. I feel just as I always have — just 
as I told you the other day." 

"You love me, yet cannot promise to marry 


me; and you expect me to be satisfied with such 
an unsolved riddle . . . . " 

"I don't expect you to be satisfied." 

"Then in the name of heaven, Atelia, what do 
you expect, what do you mean? Don't drive 
me mad." 

Atelia again needed to draw upon all the 
reserve strength she could muster to keep herself 
in hand and meet this outburst. 

*'You draw me on with your sweet beauty, 
with your smile and words of love. Is it to 
bring me to destruction? You hold my heart 
only to crush it. I cannot hate you, my Atelia, 
my sweetheart — yes, God in Heaven, I have tried 
even that, but failed." 

She suffered with him, but he did not know 
it. Oh, why couldn't she step around to him, 
sink into his embrace, and promise anything 
he might ask? Would that help him? For the 
moment, only. She knew that. Permanent peace 
rests on broad, deep foundations, and such a 
structure takes time and labor to build. The 
scene in the office in Christiania came to her 
in brief vision, and through her dim eyes she 
saw the assuring face of the President. 

Halvor withdrevv' his hand, arose as if his 
case were hopeless and he might as well go. 

"Let us not quarrel, Halvor," she pleaded. 

*'No; we shall not quarrel. It takes two to 
quarrel, and you will not even do that." He 
stood as if about to leave her. 


Should she tell him frankly why she could 
not promise to marry him ? What would he think, 
what would he say if she should tell him that 
she could not marry any man who did not have 
the same faith, the same hope of eternal life 
that she had. — Her husband must be able to go 
with her, or else wherein the value of love that 
is eternal. Should she tell him ? . . . . No ; it would 
not do. Not for a moment must she suggest that 
he must becom.e a Mormon. If he is the man 
she thinks he is, he would resent that. Con- 
version to a religious faith must come from 
within, with no ulterior motive. She would have 
to hold her peace and rest her case with the Lord. 

With no further words from either of them, 
they walked quietly back to the house, and he 
went to his office with no demonstrations of 
word or act. Frue Steen had httle to say all 
morning. Atelia concluded it would be best for 
her to leave. Within an hour she could be ready. 
There was a train shortly before noon. As she 
was waiting for the carriage which she had 
ordered, she called Halvor over the telephone, 
and told him that she was about to leave. He 
would meet her at the station, he said, and 
hung up before she could say more. 

He was at the station; and as the train came 
in, he helped her to a seat. He had but a moment 
to take her hand and say goodby. As the train 
moved off, she waved to him through the win- 
dow, and he gallantly stood with uncovered head, 
until the cars disappeared around a curve. 


HE steam heat, newly installed in the 
hotel, was oppressive, so Halvor Steen 
had opened the window, and he sat 
by it looking out on the people in Karl 
Johan Street. The winter had come in earnest, 
it seemed, for the air was full of flying snow. 
Halvor looked up to where the big white flakes 
came from out a dark upper region, scurried 
for a moment in the air, then fell into the slush 
of the busy street. It was nearly ten o'clock, 
and yet some of the street lamps were burning. 
It was a miserable morning, in harmony, the 
young man thought, with his own feelings. 

The business which had brought him to 
Christiania could not be attended to until later 
in the afternoon, so he had most of the day 
to spend in idleness. He tried to read, but the 
light was bad, and — well, any and all excuses 
suffice for a man who is out of sorts. So what 
seemed to please him most was to sit at the 
open window and look at the moving crowds 

For nearly a month now Halvor had been 
separated from Atelia. Since she had left him 
at the station in Strand, he had received only 


one small note from her, telling him of her 
safe arrival home. He had answered that note 
with one as brief, and that had been the end 
of their correspondence. Was this also to be 
the end of all else between them, Halvor 
wondered that morning. It seemed so. And yet, 
he could not get his mind fixed on such an 
ending — his heart would not let him; for his 
heart still resisted when stern reason would 
seem to have its way. 

After Atelia's visit, Frue Steen had talked em- 
phatically to her son on the foohshness of his 
making any binding alliance with a Mormon, 
pointing out to him what it would mean socially, 
politically, and perhaps in a business way; and 
Halvor had listened to his mother. Not that he 
was convinced by her talk, but he thought that 
perhaps it was the wisest way to wait and let 
time develop some way out of his difficulty. He 
would keep away from Atelia, and see what 
effect such a course might have on his feelings. 
He wanted to test himself in some sort of way: 
but to tell the truth, he was far from satisfied 
with himself by the course he had taken. Do 
what he would, Atelia Heldman was with 
him still. 

What was she doing on this wintry morning? 
Heimstad was a lonesome place in winter; and 
she had few whom she could associate with at 
this dreary season of the year. In his mind he 
saw Heimstad in the glory of its summer dress, 


and the young girl, its mistress, the life and 
light of the picture. Atelia had been Halvor's 
only sweetheart. No girl had ever seriously 
"bothered" him until she came into his life. Then 
there was something different. Their mutual 
liking for out-door sport had led them on to the 
fjords and into the hills. They had matched 
their skill more than once before that final big 
race of last summer, in small sailing skiffs upon 
Thorvand. At the oars, Atelia was just as 
skillful as he, and her strong, firm muscles held 
their own very well against his bigger and 
stronger ones. In winter, these two had glided 
together over the ice, and had made many a 
flying leap on ''Ski" over and into snow-drifts ! . . 
Halvor drew back from the window of his 
hotel. He didn't care to see any more of the 
crowd ; but the room was close, and he could not 
stand the oppressive heat, so he donned his coat 
and hat and went out. The snow had ceased, 
and it seemed as if the storm might break. He 
would get out for a walk by himself away from 
the people, but to do so he would have to traverse 
Karl Johan for a block or two. Just as he 
reached a point opposite to the art store where 
he remembered having seen the photograph of 
Atelia as the central figure of "Norden," he 
stopped and crossed the street. The picture 
which Atelia herself had seen was still there, 
and Halvor stood looking at it, his thirsting soul 
drinking in its beauty. Was she not in fact 


looking for him from under that shading hand? 
Was there not a m.ute pleading for him in those 
rosy child-lips? Never before had that sweet 
face mirrored itself so distinctly in his heart; 
and yet for these many days he had been 
satisfied to remain away from her — no, not satis- 
fied, he could not, would not try to deceive him- 
self longer. He would go to her, ask her for- 
giveness, promise anything, not vex her with 
questions which she could not answer, but be 
content to be with her and know that she 
loved him. 

''Atelia," he breathed softly as he looked at 
her picture through the window. 

Halvor turned, walked hurriedly up the street 
to the Palace Park. The trees were laden with 
snow. The sentry v/as pacing back and forth, 
going through the form of protecting the royal 
precincts. Halvor stopped. He did not now care 
for a walk in the country. Something ''pulled" 
him back ; and as he gave way to this something, 
and retraced his steps, he wondered what it 
meant. Where should he go? 

"To Osterhaus 27." 

Halvor turned. How foolish; no one spoke! 
but the "pull" was toward Osterhaus 27, — the 
Mormon headquarters. Well, he might as well 
go there as anyvrhere else. 

Halvor would take another look at the picture ; 
but just as that thought came to him, he saw 
the Mormon President hurriedly cross the street. 


look for a moment at the picture in the art 
store, then walk towards him. He carried a 
basket as if he had been shopping, and was 
taking his goods home. The President would 
not have seen Halvor had not the young man 
stopped and greeted him with a good morning. 

**Well, well, said the President — ''yes, I know 
you, and I am glad to see you. Rather bad 
morning for walking, isn't it?" 

"Are you going home? if so, I'll walk along 
with you," said Halvor. 

''Yes, but by a round-about way. If you 
don't mind walking a bit, I shall be glad to 
have your company. You don't mind the basket?" 

"Why should I? I'm not carrying it. Is it 

"Oh, no; but it isn't quite the correct form, 
you know, for a man to be carrying a basket 
of bread on Karl Johan; but I have to cross 
the street to get to my destination." 

"But you do not have to stop and look at 
the pictures of pretty girls in the windows." 

"Well, now, did you see me do that?" The 
President looked at Halvor and laughed guiltily. 

"Oh, I don't blame you. I've just had a long 
look at it myself. It's worth looking at." 

The President agreed. Then he explained, as 
they were walking along, that he was calling 
on a poor family to give them some bread and 
butter. "When these people come to us with a 
tale of woe, and want to borrow money, I in- 


quire into their condition, and if I find that they 
really need something to eat, I take bread and 
butter to them instead of giving them money. 
I think I can spend money to a better advantage 
than they, and I tell them they can live on such 
good bread and butter as we have here for a 
long time; and besides, which is more important 
— though I can't make them understand — they 
can keep out of debt." 

Halvor thought the President's plan a wise 
one. They soon reached a poor section of the 
city, and the President left Halvor for a moment 
while he climbed to the top story of a building to 
deliver his provisions. He returned in a very 
short time, and said: 

"I'm through for this morning. Now, will 
you walk home with me? I think you want to 
talk to me about that beautiful picture in the 
window; and I shall be pleased to Hsten." 

That discerning President! However, nothing 
pertinent was said until the President had led 
Halvor into the office in Osterhaus 27, had given 
him a chair by the table, had replenished the 
stove, and then had drawn his own chair opposite 
the young man. Some weeks before, Atelia had 
been seated exactly as Halvor was now. 

"Now," began the President somewhat 
abruptly, "how is that young lady friend of 
yours ?" 

"To tell you the truth, I do not know. I — I 
thought you might tell me something about her." 


"No ; I have heard very little ; only a few days 
ago she sent to this office for a bundle of tracts. 
She was going out as a missionary, she said, and 
would need them." 

"As a missionary!" 

"Oh, that was some of her good humor. She, 
I understood from her short letter, was going 
to visit her mother's people up the coast; and 
the tracts were for them, no doubt." 

"Has she gone yet, do you think?" 

"That I do not know. You should know." 

"Yes; I should. I'll confess my sins to you. 
President, that I have foolishly neglected Atelia." 

"A better girl never lived, Hr. Steen; and as 
for her loveliness — well, what more do you want." 

"What more indeed ! . . . . I don't understand 
Atelia. She is quite a puzzle to me. I — I wonder 
if you might help me in this. Somehow, I 
feel as though you could. In fact, I was on the 
way to see you when we met on Karl Johan .... 
Well, I might as well tell you that Atelia and 
I have spoken our love to each other, but some- 
how she has gone out of my reach, there seems 
to be a barrier between us; and yet I cannot 
define it, I can't tell what it is." 

"It isn't her fault — that is, she hasn't been 
indifferent, or anything like that?" 

"Oh, no; quite the contrary." He knew he 
could say that much truthfully. 

"Then, as there are but two factors in this 
problem of yours, and Atelia being one of them 



and not to blame, where does the fault lie?'* 
Halvor seemed unable to answer this satis- 
factorily. He was not sure that he was to blame 

**Let me tell you a little story," continued the 
President. **Once upon a time a young man 
and a young woman were in love with each 
other. Thev told each other of their love, and 
were very happy. One day the woman discovered 
the entrance to a very beautiful park, which park 
was itself only the beginning of a celestial world, 
full of hfe and light and beauty. She learned 
that the tree of life was in this new land which 
she had discovered, the fruit of which w^ould 
make her wise unto salvation and give her life 
eternal along with all of God's redeemed, among 
whom she counted her father and mother and 
many other dear ones. It took a httle courage 
for any one to enter this gate to this land, for 
the gate was not in form and appearance just 
what the world called the proper thing. In fact, 
there was a reproach attached to those who 
entered. Yet this woman did enter, and when 
she had seen the beauty within, she beckoned 
her lover to come also; but he refused. 'Come, 
just examine into this matter closely,' she said, 
and you will discover that what appears bad is 
not bad at all; but he still refused; he would 
not even investigate, — but there, I'm a poor story 
teller, and I've got to the end of my resources." 
Halvor Steen understood well enough the in- 



terpretation of the President's story. The Mor- 
mon Church was this beautiful land. He resented 
in his feelings this preachment, but he could 
not on the moment frame a reply. 

**Now, never mind the story," said the Presi- 
dent; "it, no doubt, is a poor one. Let me talk 
to you in plain words. Shall I?" 

**Yes; I wish you would." 

"You said just now that there seemed to be 
some indefinable gulf between you and Atelia. 
Very likely there is. Have you ever thought 
what a wonderful creature man is, in that he 
may live in places other than where his body is. 
For instance, a man with a book may visit with 
Livingston in the heart of Africa or may go 
with Nansen to the Arctic regions. The mind 
is the man, and the mind may live with Napoleon 
in his camp or with the lovers in their garden. 
In thought, one may live over the past and an- 
ticipate the future. In short, man's life is largely 
what his thoughts are. Now, friend Halvor, 
what have you done to get near to where Atelia 
Heldman lives?" 

Halvor's conscience did prick him a little at 
this. "Very little, I fear," he rephed. 

"Atelia is a Latter-day Saint. As such her 
ideals are different to the world's. Listen! love 
to her has become, by the added light which 
she has received, not only a most beautiful, but 
a most glorious, powerful, eternal principle. The 
love of lovers consumated in the love of husband 


and wife is not narrowed to the few years of 
this earth-life; but it extends to the eternal 
worlds, going on and on, growing stronger, more 
beautiful, more glorious as the ages roll by. 
I doubt not, my friend, that in such a world 
of love Atelia lives even now, and I ask again, 
what have you done to bridge the gulf between 
that world and the one in which you live?" 

**Do you mean that I also should become a 
Mormon ?" 

"I mean that if I loved a woman as you love 
Atelia, I would try my very best to get to her — 
to get to the world she lives in." 

*'That is, I repeat, become a Mormon." 

The President looked more keenly at his visitor 
than he had so far done during the interview 
as he asked: 

"What is it to become a Mormon, as you 
put it?" 

"Why, I understand one must be baptized by 


"I could take you to Aker river and baptize 
you fifty times without making a Latter-day 
Saint out of you." 

"Then perhaps I don't understand." 
"Baptism in water is an outward ordinance. 
Enrolling one's name in a book is a form. Going 
to a church is an action of the mortal body. 
Have not I been trying to tell you that the 
world Atelia lives in is a spiritual one, and any 
one who wishes to get into that world must 


enter the gate in ^spirit and in truth/ Atelia's 
beautiful face and form is in Norway somewhere, 
either at Heimstad or up the coast. You can 
go to her, feel the gentle pressure of her hand, 
and look on that fair face, but the only way 
you can live where she lives is to enter her 

"Why could she not come back to my world?" 
**She could; that, of course is possible." 
''True love is capable of sacrifice to the 
uttermost, is it not?" 

"Sometimes what is called true love is very 
near-sighted, sometimes very foolish; sometimes 
sacrifices are made that are to no purpose. Now, 
just suppose Atelia should come to you and say, 
'Halvor, I'll give up living in my world. I'll go 
with you, because I love you so. I can't live 
without you, therefore I'll sacrifice everything 
for our love!' What would it profit? What 
would she gain if she got you and the whole 
world thrown in, if she lost her soul?" 

"I can think it possible that one would be 
willing to go to hell for eternity for just the 
privilege of loving for a short time." 

"That's a story-book notion. It's foundation 
rests on falsehood and deception. True, men 
risk their hopes of salvation to satisfy some de- 
praved passion or appetite; but don't say love 
will do that. Love is of God ; love will prompt 
no one to do that which will be for one's eternal 
loss." The President was conscious of repeating 


to this man somewhat the same as he had told the 
woman, sitting some time ago in the same place. 
Perhaps both of them needed the same teaching. 

"Yes;" agreed Halvor, 'Til admit that the 
heaven for a minute, hell for eternity idea never 
has appealed to me; but tell me why should not 
a marriage based on true love extend to 

"It should; and it will if done by the proper 
authority and in the right way. Let me read 
to you a little from a book containing the reve- 
lations of the Lord to us through the Prophet 
Joseph Smith." The President went to his desk 
for the book, opened it and read: 

- * "Everything that is in the world, whether it 
be ordained of men, by thrones, or principalities, 
or powers, or things of name, whatsoever they 
may be, that are not by me, or by my word, 
saith the Lord, shall be thrown down, and shall 
not remain after men are dead, neither in nor 
after the resurrection, saith the Lord your God ;' 

" Tor whatsoever things remain, are by me ; 
and whatsoever are not by me, shall be shaken 
and destroyed.' 

" 'Therefore, if a man marry him a wife in 

the world, and he marry her not by me, nor by 

my word; and he covenant with her so long 

as he is in the world, and she with him, their 

covenant and marriage are not of force when 

they are dead, and when they are out of the 


world; therefore they are not bound by any law 
when they are out of the world;' 

" 'Therefore, when they are out of the world, 
they neither marry, nor are given in marriage; 
but they are appointed angels in heaven, which 
angels are ministering servants, to minister to 
those who are worthy of a far more, and an 
exceeding, and an eternal weight of glory;' 

" Tor these angels did not abide my law, there- 
fore, they cannot be enlarged, but remain separ- 
ately and singly, without exaltation, in their 
saved condition, to all eternity, and from hence- 
forth are not Gods, but are angels of God, for 
ever and ever/ " 

'This is the law as we are taught it," said 
the President. 

Halvor sat in deep thought; nor did he speak 
until the President got up, went to the stove 
to adjust the drafts, and then resumed his seat. 

''Do I understand," asked Halvor, "that the 
highest place in heaven is reserved for those 
who are married — married, of course, in a way 
that would preserve that state in the next 
world ?" 

*'I know not how deeply the doctrine of an 
unsexed heaven has become grounded in. your 
religious belief," replied the President; "but let 
me tell you that sex is not limited to earth-life: 
it is eternal, endless, and an attribute of God. 
We, as God's children, inherit it from Him. 'Let 
us make man in our own image,' said the Creator. 


*So God created man in his own image, in the 
image of God created he him; male and female 
created he them/ Where there is a father, there 
must be a mother and children; where there is 
a husband, there must be a wife — but let me 
read a little further from the revelation : 

" 'And again, verily I say unto you, if a man 
marry a wife by my word, which is my law, 
and by the new and everlasting covenant, and 
it is sealed unto them by the Holy Spirit of 
promise, by him who is annointed, unto whom 
I have appointed this power, and the keys 
of this Priesthood ; and it shall be said unto them, 
ye shall come forth in the first resurrection; 
and if it be after the first resurrection, in the 
next resurrection; and shall inherit thrones, 
kingdoms, principalities, and powers, dominions, 
all heights and depths — then shall it be written 
an the Lamb's Book of Life that he shall commit 
no murder whereby to shed innocent blood, and 
if he abide in my covenant .... it shall be done 
unto them in all things whatsoever my servant 
hath put upon them, in time, and through all 
eternity, and shall be of full force when they 
are out of the world; and they shall pass by 
the angels, and the Gods, which are set there, 
to their exaltation and their glory in all things, 
as hath been sealed upon their heads, which 
glory shall be a fullness and a continuation of 
the seeds for ever and ever.' 

" 'Then shall they be Gods, because they have 


no end; therefore shall they be from everlasting 
to everlasting, because they continue; then shall 
they be above all, because all things are subject 
to them. Then shall they be Gods, because they 
have all power, and the angels are subject unto 
them/" * * ♦ ♦ ♦ 

"And all this is what Atelia reads and be- 
lieves?" asked Halvor. 

"This is the world she lives in." 

"I can't grasp all this, of course; for it comes 
as a mighty wave which I cannot stem, even 
though I would, — a wave which seems to swamp 
my puny ideas, yet is not destructive, but lifts 
me up into a wonderful exultation. Though I 
cannot grasp every detail of what you have been 
reading, it 'tastes good,' and that is a testimony 
of its truth, to use an expression of Atelia's. 
I thank you, President, for the time you have 
spent with me." He arose to go. 

"You have an appointment, I suppose?" 

"Yes; but I'm coming again — soon — and every 
time I get a chance. Meanwhile, have you some 
books for me to read?" 

"I have — and I am glad to see you are going 
to prepare yourself, like a true knight, to follow 
your lady-love whither she leads, at least, to 
spy out the land and watch for any dangers. 
She must be lonesome, waiting for you, yes, and 
suffering the pangs of doubt and anxiety whether 
or not you will ever come. Remember, as she 
remembers, that 'the man is not without the 


woman, neither the woman without the man, in 
the Lord/ " 
"Suppose I never see the way, — suppose — " 
*'Ah, but you will, Halvor; pray God that He 
will show you the way. I have faith in you 
that you will win, and that Atelia, that brave 
daughter of the north will also win. Goodby 
now, and God bless you — come again." 

They walked down the stairs together, and 
again said farewell on the sidewalk where they 




NE of the compensations of so-called bad 
weather is that one may with more 
content stay at home and do some of 
the many things which are neglected 
because of out-door activities. Thus it was with 
Heimstad and Atelia that day. For weeks after 
her return from her visit to Strand, there had 
been glorious fall weather, and she had spent 
much of her time out of doors : she felt as though 
she must move in the open; there was more 
escape for pent-up feeling in forest, on hill, 
and lake. 

But today the rain was accompanied with a 
cold wind. The fire in the big dining room 
felt good. Atelia, after luncheon, seeing that 
there was no prospects of fair weather that day, 
had gone up to her room, and had carried down 
a large box full to overflowing of her ^'things." 
What these "things" consisted of would take a 
good-sized list to tell; but as every daughter, 
north or south, knows what they are, there is 
no need of going into particulars here. 

Atelia, seated on the floor by the box, first 


sorted its contents into things to be preserved 
and things to be destroyed. As this process 
always requires careful discrimination, she was 
a long time in emptying the box. When she 
came to her letters, which she left to the last, 
she made slow progress, for she would have to 
read a good many of them before she could 
decide on which pile to place them. Halvor's 
letters were tied in a bundle by themselves. She 
reserved them to the very last. It was not a 
large bundle, for Halvor had never been lavish 
or lengthy in his letter-writing. The briefest 
of them all was the last, a very fitting tapering 
off, it occurred to Atelia. Goodby is a short 
word, — but oh, the long time afterward! 

Atelia took her bundle to the window to the 
better light. She opened and read a number of 
the letters. Which pile should these go into? 
Was it worth while to preserve these reminders 
of the past? If kept, would they not open anew 
wounds which time would heal? She had best 
throw them in the fire, the whole bundle, just 
as they are, without further examination; but 
as she was saying this in her heart, her fingers 
were tying them up carefully again. They lay 
on her lap, as she looked out of the window to 
the rain-washed country without. 

Olga came to the door and spoke; but Atelia 
apparently did not hear. The girl repeated. 

''What is it, Olga?" asked Atelia, going back 
to the confusion on the floor. 


"Elder Larsen is here with some people, and 
he wishes to see you." 

"Oh, tell him I'll be out immediately." She 
hurriedly replaced the contents of her box, pay- 
ing little regard to things to be destroyed and 
things to be preserved, then shoved the box 
into a comer. She found Elder Larsen in the 
kitchen, and greeted him warmly. 

"You are wet," she exclaimed. "Have you 
been out in this storm?" 

"Only a little while." He turned to the man 
and the woman who were with him. "These," 
said he to Atelia, "are Brother and Sister Bonden. 
They are wet, and will you kindly let them 
change their clothing for the dry ones in their 
bundles ?" 

"Why, of course; and I am very glad to know 
you," she said as she shook them by the hand, 
and sent them out with Olga. "But, Elder Lar- 
sen, what does this mean?" 

The missionary was far from miserable over 
his wetting; in fact he seemed to be happy, 
chuckling merrily as he explained. 

"You see," he said, "Brother and Sister Bon- 
den are two converts from Telemarken. I have 
been touring that part again. When I got ready 
to leave these people, they said they were going 
with me. They were going to Skien, anyway, 
they claimed. So we took boat together. You 
can't imagine how I felt, Atelia." — His voice 
lowered and became very gentle as he went on. 



— "I was reminded how the people could not 
be made to go their own way again when they 
had heard the Master's voice, but would follow 
Him like children. These two honest souls have 
the same spirit, and this incident has filled my 
heart." .... 

"But how came they to be so wet?" 

"ril explain. I did not know Sister Nordo 
was living here with you, so we went up to 
her house. Finding it deserted and closed, the 
only thing I could do was to come here. We 
walked over the hill, and got a good soaking, 
of course. As you know, the road dips down to 
Thorvand, and when we got to that place. Brother 
Bonden stopped. *See, here is water,' said he; 
*what doeth hinder me to be baptized?' *And I 
too,' said the woman. All the time these two 
people had the thought of being baptized in 
mind, and had prepared their bundles of clothing 
for the purpose, but had said nothing about it 
until now. They were both already as wet as 
they well could be, and I told them if that was 
what they desired, I would baptize them in 
Thorvand. And I did." 

'In the clothes they walked in?" 

'Yes ; those in their bundles were not so good, 
but they are much dryer, and that will explain 
their somewhat odd apparel when they reappear." 

The chuckle had come back to Elder Larsen's 
tone, and Atelia also smiled at the oddity of 
the affair. Then she became busy. She found 



some clothing of her father's for Elder Larsen, 
and sent Olga to Sister Bonden with other needed 
things. Sister Nordo took a motherly hand with 
the woman, and in a short time they all gathered 
in the big dining room and were getting better 

That evening after the visitors had been 
warmed and well fed, a little confirmation 
meeting was held. The peaceful Spirit of the 
Lord was poured out in abundance on them as 
these "two or three" were gathered together in 
the name of the Lord. 

"I have recently been reading," said Elder 
Larsen, "a little of Norse mythology, and as I 
always try to interpret everything by the light 
of the gospel, I find some wonderful suggestions 
in the tales and sages of our old mother-land. 
There seems to be some foundation of truth in 
the gods and godesses of our forefathers." 

"I think there is," said Brother Bonden. "The 
fundamental element in their mythology was a 
religious one. They were trying to find the 
'unknown God' in nature around them. Some 
writers on Norse mythology have pointed out 
the probability of this mythology having its 
origin in the true religion which was revealed 
to man in the earliest period of human history. 
As one writer puts it: The Edda has descended 
to us through the ages, growing, like all tradition, 
continually darker, and accumulating lower mat- 
ter and more divergent and more pagan doctrines 


as the walls of old castles become covered with 
old mosses and lichens, till it finally assumed 
the form in which it was collected from the 
mouths of the people and put in a permanent 
written form/ What do you think of that, 
Elder Larsen?'' 

"That is probable. We know that the gospel 
was revealed, to Adam and others in the be- 
ginning of the race. Why should not some of 
its truths have filtered down through the ages ?" 

"And one of the fundamental truths is that 
there are Gods ruling and reigning in the uni- 
verse in whose image and likeness we mortals 
have been made." 

"We have scripture for that," added Atelia. 

"Paul tells us we are the offspring of God," 
said Elder Larsen. 

"Therefore," Brother Bonden concluded, "we 
are destined to become hke Him. This truth 
has been, as it were, in the background of my 
thoughts for a long time, but I could not express 
it intelligently until Elder Larsen came along 
with the 'Key of Knowledge* which opened the 

It was at this point in the little meeting that 
Atelia said to the maid, who was sitting with 
them around the table: 

"Olga, something seems to be burning in the 
kitchen. Go and see." 

Olga arose, went the length of the hall to the 
back kitchen. Because of the cold, all the doors 


were closed. When she opened the kitchen door, 
the draft must have fanned into a blaze the 
smouldering fire in the woodwork of the floor, 
for the girl drew back with a shriek which 
rang through the house and startled the inmates 
sitting quietly in the dining room. The flames 
seemed to reach after the girl as she ran back. 

"What is it, Olga?" 

"Fire! fire; the house is on fire!" screamed 
the girl. 

All rushed into the hall-way. From the rear 
kitchen doorway came billows of smoke, followed 
by tongues of flame. The women stood for a 
moment terrorized. The two men asked each 
other what best to do. 

"Atelia," said Elder Larsen, "where is there 
water ?" 

"Only in the well — here, I'll show you." 

She was about to rush down the hall through 
the smoke, when Elder Larsen seized her arm. 
"No; you can't get out that way. We must go 
around by the front." 

Out of the front door they ran, the others 
following. The well was at the rear, and some 
distance away, and a bucket was all that could 
be used. By the time the two men had drawn 
water enough to fill two pails which the women 
had brought, the flames were pouring out of 
the kitchen windows. The water was thrown in 
through the broken glass, but all could see that 
it made no perceptable effect on the fire. 


**Have you no water-pipes?" Elder Larsen 
again asked. 

''They got out of order three months ago, and 
we haven't used them since." 

"I'm afraid," he said, then went to work again. 
All hands worked heroically. The rain had nearly 
ceased, but there was a strong wind which was 
driving the fire rapidly from the kitchen into the 
hall and other rooms. 

"It's no use trying to put it out now," said 
Brother Bonden. "We had better see if we can 
save something." As they paused a moment to 
look at the burning house. Elder Larsen agreed 
with him. The old home was doomed. The 
flames licked the hundred-years old timbers as 
if greedy to devour their solid substance. The 
kitchen ceiling fell in with a crash and the flames 
roared up into Olga's bed room above. 

The little awe-stricken party ran around to the 
front of the house. 

"Is there a ladder?" asked Elder Larsen. 

"Yes," replied Helga as she ran to the "stabur" 
to fetch it. 

Meanwhile, the two men entered the front 
rooms which were fast filling with smoke, but 
they managed to get some pictures from the 
walls and some of the lighter pieces of furniture, 
and hand them out to the women. Among the 
things saved was Atelia's cup which she had won 
at the regatta. They tried the piano, but found 


it too heavy to get out in the limited time 
they had. 

"Is there anything special?" shouted Elder 
Larsen to Atelia. 

"I don't know, Oh, I don't know." Atelia was 
trying hard to control herself. "Can you get 
up stairs — my clothes — " 

"Here's the ladder," said Helga, as she placed 
it against the portico. 

Brother Bonden sprang up to the porch roof, 
from which position he entered Atelia's bed room. 
Elder Larsen followed and received the things 
as they were handed to him. Bed clothes were 
tumbled out on to the ground, but Ateha's per- 
sonal belongings were let down more gently. In 
this way a good many things were rescued be- 
fore the smoke became so thick that they could 
do no more. Then all that could be done was to 
carry the articles they had secured to a safe 
distance, and stand helplessly and see Heimstad 
House burn to the ground. 

Atelia Heldman, brave and fearless as she 
was in many ways, stood with blanched face 
and looked at the awful sight. Then she sank 
with a moan on to the pile of bedding. Sister 
Nordo tried to comfort her, not with useless 
words, but with supporting arm and caressing 
touch. There were no near neighbors, but those 
at a distance who had seen the light in the 
darkness, now began to arrive. They could do 
nothing but take their places by the little group 


and stand in silent awe to see the huge tongues 
of red flame leap out of the windows and doors 
and ravenously eat into the wooden walls, until 
they became too weak to support the red tiles 
of the roof, when they came down with a crash. 
A great cloud of smoke and blazing spUnters of 
wood arose into the air when the roof fell in. 
Atelia hid her face in Sister Nordo's arms when 
she saw what was about to happen. 

It was well towards midnight before the fire 
had done its work completely. There were no 
other buildings near enough to the burning house 
to be in danger. The capacious bams and hay 
sheds, once full, were at this time very little in 
use. They were however, clean and dry, and to 
these buildings the homeless people moved what 
they had saved. They made beds on the hay 
and the women were prevailed upon to lie down 
and rest. The men kept watch for some time, 
then towards morning, they also slept for a 
few hours. 

Atelia lay quietly with eyes closed; but she 
could not sleep. Her heart was full to bursting, 
and racing through her brain were wild thoughts 
which seemed beyond her control. Prayer after 
prayer she sent up to her Father in Heaven, but 
it was a long time before the peace of heart 
and rest of mind which came in answer to her 
prayers could have their way with her. At last 
these heavenly forces conquered, and just as she 


was dropping off to sleep, she seemed to hear 
a still, small voice whisper to her: "Some things 
are to be preserv-ed, and some things are to be 
destroyed." "Yes, yes," she responded in her 
heart, — "there were Halvor's letters — some of 
them I wanted to keep — but now they are all 
gone — among the things to be destroyed." Then 
she fell asleep. 



WEEK after Atelia Heldman had wit- 
nessed the destruction of Heimstad, she 
was on board one of the steamers which 
regularly threads its w^ay along Norway's 
rugged coast. The long-promised visit to her 
mother's people was now to be fulfilled. 

It was afternoon on board. There was a 
brisk breeze, and the air was cold with the 
feeling of coming winter. Well protected by 
wraps, Atelia sat in a sheltered place on deck. 
Atelia was alone on this trip — very fitting it 
occurred to her that afternoon, for was she not 
now alone on her journey of life? Sister Nordo 
and Helga had gone back to their humbler 
quarters, taking with them what had been saved 
from the fire, and Olga had to go back to her 
own people in the uplands of Telemarken. Elder 
Larsen, and Brother and Sister Bonden had re- 
mained for a few days to help, then the former 
left to go on with his labors, and the two latter 
to go back home. Heimstad had been insured 
against fire, and Uncle Sande kindly helped her 
to see that the settlement was properly under 
way. So there was now nothing to hold her 
in the old environment but memories, and from 
these she wished to escape. Up to the time of 



her departure, not a word had been received from 
Halvor Steen. 

The Norwegian west coast is a wonder ! To get 
a correct idea of it as a whole, a detailed map 
must be studied, on which is shown every prom- 
ontory, island, and fjord. It seems impossible to 
have a more rugged mixture of land and water. 
A personal inspection, such as was had by 
Atelia that afternoon, will bring out the peculiar 
grandeur of the scenery. 

The distant mountains on the mainland were 
already covered with snow. The nearer strip 
of coast land was gray, bare and bleak. The 
small patches, once green, were now brown, 
adding their dullness to the gray rock and yellow 
sand. Fog banks hung over some of the outer 
islands and projecting headlands. Now the boat 
went bounding over a rough open sheet of water. 
The mainland coast receded, only to loom up 
again right ahead. Then the steamer wound in 
and out of the interminable maze of islands, 
through passages sometimes so narrow that a 
stone might be thrown to either side. The boat 
passed close under a crag, disturbing great 
flocks of sea birds, whose cries made a deafening 
noise. In these cliff-locked passages, the water 
mirrored the rocks and sky until its smooth 
surface was broken by the steamer. 

When the steamer dropped its anchor opposite 
a red-roofed town situated at the mouth of a 
fjord, small boats came darting out, their brawny 



occupants vieing with each other for passengers. 
Big flat-boats lay alongside, and the steamer's 
hoisting machinery, with much rattling, lifted 
bales and barrels of fish and deposited them in 
the hold. A few passengers came and went. 
Then the anchor was raised, and the steamer 
headed for an opening in the coast. Here and 
there groups of fisher huts clung to the rocks. 
Boats and nets and fish refuse lined the shore. 
Small strips of brown stubble showed where a 
few bundles of barley were harvested and a small 
boat-load of hay was cut. At every small station 
along this crooked water-way, a boat-man came 
out with a bag of mail, which he exchanged for 
another. Perchance a passenger got on or off. 
Usually a few packages of express were received. 
Thus on and on in and out went the boat until 
darkness closed down on sea and land, — and yet 
the boat sped on. 

Atelia hked to see it all, she liked to study 
the people. She knew they were not many, these 
descendants of the Northmen, scattered as they 
are along the barren rocks of the coast, but 
they are strong in many good things. Honesty 
and integrity are deep-rooted in them. Plodding 
and slow they may be, but they wrest an honest 
living from the sublime barrenness. "If only 
they could see the gospel light," said Atelia to 
herself. "Why can they not see it? There are 
thousands of good, honest souls scattered among 
these islands and fjords. Would that I were a 


man, — and a missionary. Then I might do some- 

She was up early next morning, ready to leave 
the boat. The larger coast vessels cannot possibly 
wind in and out to all stations, so the small local 
routes around islands and up fjords are served 
by small steamers from some station on the 
main line. Atelia had to transfer that morning 
to one of these small boats. The town where 
she got off had good wharf facilities, so the 
boat could lay up to the pier. With her trunk 
and hand baggage by her, she watched the larger 
boat proceed on its way, and the smaller boat 
lay up to the landing. She read the name 
"Viking" on the prow. The captain from the 
wheel on the steering deck looked at her as if 
he knew her. When she was comfortably seated 
amidships, and the little steamer was well under 
way, the captain gave the wheel in charge of 
another, and stepped down with cap in hand to 
his passenger. 

"I beg your pardon," said he; "but are you 
not Froken Heldman?" 

"Yes," she answered as she looked up to him. 

"I thought so. You would not, of course, re- 
member me. I was one of the defeated ones of 
the Regatta last summer. I was the skipper 
of the 'Virga.' 

Atelia arose and extended her hand in greeting. 
"I am glad to meet you," she said. "And I hope 
I am forgiven." 





"Entirely. I did not take my defeat so badly 
as Halvor Steen. I hope he also has forgiven you." 

"I hope so — and so you are the captain of the 
^Viking' now?" 

''Oh, yes; one must make a living, you know. 
I nose about these islands for my bread and 
butter; for fun, once in a while, I sail in a race." 

'The 'Viking' in you must be satisfied now 
and then." 

"Exactly, Froken Heldman — but will you not 
come up to the wheel. I shall have to release 
my man. You see, our little craft carries but 
few hands." 

Atelia gladly mounted the steps and took the 
chair Captain Moen placed for her near where 
he stood. The morning was beautiful, with clear 
sky and smooth water. The steamer pointed 
straight toward a rocky cliff, but when within 
a few rods, the wheel spun around, and the boat 
glided in a graceful curve into an opening. 

"This is really most enjoyable," said Atelia. 
"This coast line is wonderful." 

"Yes; but one gets tired of being hemmed in 
like this. It's always a relief to get out in the 
open. Some day when I become the captain of 
a trans-Atlantic liner — " He ended his sentence 
with a merry laugh. 

"And why not?" 

He did not answer that; but he looked at the 
book she held in her hand. "Is it interesting?" 
he asked. 


"Yes; very," she held it out to him. 

"English — and the Bible. That's a strange 
combination for a Norwegian girl. Are you 
studying to be a missionary to the wilds of 

"Why shouldn't I read the Bible in English. 
I want to learn the language and I find the 
scriptures the easiest reading." 

"Let me hear you read." 

"I'm a poor scholar." 

But he urged, and she opened the book : " *He 
that loveth father or mother more than me is 
not worthy of me: and he that loveth son or 
daughter more than me is not worthy of me! 

" 'And he that taketh not his cross, and fol- 
loweth after me, is not worthy of me.' 

"'He that findeth his life shall lose it: and 
he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it.' 
What does it mean?" she asked, when she saw 
that he understood her reading. 

They were steaming straight across a wide 
body of water, into which the sea-waves rolled. 

"I am no theologian," answered the captain 
with eye straight ahead, "but I suppose that in 
the days of the Savior such sacrifices were 
necessary. A Christian had to be one thing or 

"Why isn't that necessary now? Why is it now 
so easy to get to heaven? Has the road been 
changed? Has the straight and narrow way 



been changed and abandoned for the easy, 
wide one?" 

Captain Moen looked for a moment from the 
distance to the face of the young woman beside 
him, and he saw something there that puzzled 
him. Atelia in her fervor of speech was fearful 
that she might have betrayed the thought behind 
her words, so she closed her book, placed it 
on the deck, and leaned over the railing. 

"Where is Skarpen?" she asked. 

"Just around that headland you see to the 
right. We're about half way." 

"Does the sea ever get rough here?" 

"Do you see that opening to the left? Well, 
when a good storm comes from the Atlantic 
through that opening, we may look out. Right 
ahead you see a big rock standing sheer out 
of the water. That's Sten island. Between it 
and the mainland the current is dangerous in bad 
weather, so we have to go out around. Then 
we get shaken up a bit." 

"But the weather is fine today." 

"Oh, yes; don't worry about that. We'll cut 
right through to Skarpen very nicely today." 

In a few minutes the whistle sounded, and as 
they rounded the inner point of Sten island, they 
could see Skarpen in the distance. Atelia had been 
there when a child, and the memory of that time 
came to her now, and how the boat that came 
to take her and her mother off had rocked. 


Another ten minutes and they slowed up. The 
anchor dropped, and they were at rest. 

"I am very pleased to have met you, Captain 
Moen. As you pass this way frequently, I shall 
no doubt see you again," said Atelia. i 

The captain also expressed his pleasure at the 
meeting. He stepped down with her, and as- 
sisted her with her baggage. 'There are your 
Uncle and two cousins. I believe they have given 
their boat a new coat of paint for the occasion. 
And well they might," he added, ''when they 
are to have the honor of rowing to land the 
best sailor in Norway." 

From the door in the iron sides of the steamer, 
Atelia stepped lightly into her uncle's boat. 
Her trunk was lifted in, and then they shoved 
off. She waved her farewell to Captain Moen 
on the bridge, and he lifted his cap in return. 
Then she devoted her time to her uncle and the 
two sturdy fisherman cousins who were pulling 
at the oars. She enquired about her aunt Maren, 
the girls, the fishing, and such other things that 
were of local interest to them. 

Quite a little company greeted her on the 
beach and led her to the house. 



KARPEN was a fishing village, built on 
the rocks at the base of a cliff. Every 
inhabitant was engaged either in 
catching, or curing, or storing, or selling 
fish. The men, as a rule, worked on the water; 
the women on land. Fish was both the support 
and burden of their lives. Fish and fish refuse 
greeted the eye everywhere; the smell of fish 
was in the air, outside as well as in the kitchen. 
Atelia entered with keen enjoyment into this 
new life. Her people had undoubtedly expected 
to find a 'Tine Lady" who would be hard to 
please with their rough surroundings and fare; 
but Atelia's fineness was altogether of a dif- 
ferent kind than that which shows only on the 
surface. Her best gowns Vv'ere carefully put away 
in cousin Oletta's big trunk, and she dressed in 
the plainer clothes which harmonized more with 
her surroundings. She did not play the part 
of an idle visitor, but helped in the kitchen, 
with the sewing and mending, and was not 
averse to rolling up her sleeves and joining her 
neighbors in disposing of an unusual catch of 
A period of fine weather seemed to have come 


to the coast; and this led Atelia to ask her 
uncle if it would not be a wise thing for her 
to make her visit to another of her relatives 
who lived up in what was sometimes called an 
"eagle-nest farm," located on top of the great 
highland through which the fjord cut a deep 
chasm. He agreed with her. Could Oletta come 
with her, she asked. He hesitated at this, but 
could hardly refuse. 

"We'll both work harder when we come back 
to make up for lost time," she said. "Will we 
not, Oletta?" 

Oletta beamed with delight at the prospect 
of such a trip. She promised any number of 
good deeds in return. 

So it was decided and a note was sent to Uncle 
Lars, announcing their coming. Two days later, 
when the "Viking" dropped anchor near Skarpen, 
the two girls were ready to go on board. Captain 
Moen greeted them warmly, and again Atelia 
with her companion was invited up to the 
steering box, "better to see the sights," as 
he put it. 

The trip would take them zig-zagging through 
one of the fjords which extends far into the 
country. Atelia had never seen Hardanger or 
Sogn fjords, but she was told that this one 
would present to her all the grandeur of these 
larger ones. 

"Captain Moen," asked Atelia, "is the weather 


bad enough to warrant our going out around 
Sten island?" 

"This is the finest weather we've had for a 
long time. Do you want to go around?" 
"I would like to." 

*'You want to get a taste of the sea, — the 
real big sea. Now, isn't that the truth?" 

"You want to get away from this land-locked 
stillness to the sea that is alive; you want to 
feel that life in its rise and fall; you want to 
be able to look out into space where sea and 
sky meet — and so do I;" and with that, Captain 
Moen gave a swift turn to the wheel. The boat 
altered its course, its prow pointing directly out 
for the open sea. Atelia looked curiously at 
him. "We're going around the outer point of 
Sten island," he explained. 

"Oh, I wasn't in real earnest," she said, "I — " 

"But I am. I'm glad you mentioned it. I've 
wanted something all day, but I couldn't tell 
what. This is it. This is fine." He sniffed the 
breeze which the boat had already encountered 
in its altered course. 

When they arrived abreast of the outermost 
point of Sten island, the view forward was one 
stretch of unbroken water. The ocean rose and 
fell in long gentle sweeps, lifting carefully the 
little steamer, then letting it as carefully down 
in the troughs. 


"If we kept straight on in this way, where 
would we land?" asked Atelia. 

"Iceland, or perhaps Greenland." 

"That's too far north." 

"I suppose you wouldn't mind if it were some 
American port?" 

"Not at all. I'm going to America, anyway." 

'Is that so? When?" 

"Oh, not right away," she laughed. 

"Well, we're all going some day." 

As the steamer rounded the point and changed 
its course back to the fjord. Captain Moen ex- 
plained to the girls the nature of the treacherous 
currents. The high precipitous cliffs of Sten 
island with the mass of huge boulders at its 
base would be a bad place for a boat to strikfe 
in a storm ; but as the weather was fine that 
day. Captain Moen steered close so that his 
passengers might get a good look. 

But the captain of the "Viking" could not 
devote all his time to his fair companions. When .t 

they had fairly entered the fjord, they steamed 
from one side to another, touching at the land- 
ings and transacting what business was required. 
The fjord soon narrowed until it seemed the 
perpendicular walls would meet. Up in the dizzy 
height, a narrow slit of sun-bathed blue cast a 
wierd light into the deep shadow through which 
the boat was slowly throbbing. The silence was 
so intense that it became painful. Not even a 
sea-bird's cry echoed between the cliffs. Here, 



the water under them was as deep as the moun- 
tain walls above them were high. The two girls 
sat in awed silence on the deck. Here, thought 
Atelia, is the real saga-land of Norway. No 
wonder the people in the dim past, living all their 
lives in such surroundings vv'ould people their 
world with Thor and Baldur and Freya. 

Presently, the walls of rock receded, and the 
vratery floor expanded. The mountains were 
more broken, and there were patches of soil close 
by the water, half way up the hills, and even 
on the very top, where there could be seen 
clusters of houses. Openings at either side of 
the big main gorge indicated that branches ex- 
tended into the hills. The steamer sometimes 
swung into these for a short distance to a hamlet 
by the water, then turned back into the main 
water-way. Across a wide arm it plowed and 
soon it came again into the shadow. Waterfalls 
leaped from mountain cliff, or spilled down the 
rugged sides. Away in the dim distance they 
appeared like puffs of moving blue and white. 
The walls closed in again, higher than ever. The 
two girls went up to the captain. In the solemn 
gloom of saga-land, they seemed to seek for 
human company. 

"How high are these walls?" asked Ateha. 
"From three to five thousand feet; and if the 
fjord were drained and we stood at the bottom, 
we would have a wall of rock towering above 
us twice that distance." 


"Good gracious!" exclaimed Oletta. 

"Do you see that little gray dot against the 
dark green mountains?" asked the captain. "Look 
away up on the distant mountain to your right 
— do you see it — just above that waterfall?" 

"Yes ; I see," said Atelia. 

"Well, that's an eagle-nest farm." 

"What! where we are going? How in the 
world shall we ever get there?" 

"You are good climbers, aren't you?" 

"But that seems a hundred miles away, and 
up on the very top of the world." 

"Yes; but we shall see presently." 

After a half hour's sailing in and out of broken 
waterways, the whistle blew a long blast, and 
then a short extra one, which indicated special 
passengers, the captain said. Presently, they 
glided into a cove, and the steamer lay carefully 
up to a shelving rock and fastened. Not a house 
of any kind was in sight. The captain instructed 
one of his men to take the ladies' baggage off. 
Just as they were about to remonstrate, a shout 
came from away up on the mountain. 

"They're coming," said the captain. 

"Who are?" 

"Don't be frightened. Although, without doubt, 
this was one of the Vikings' strongholds, they 
are long since dead, and I assure you the race 
which now inhabits these parts are of the 
meekest and most harmless kind. There is your 
uncle Lars. I know him. He is a fine fellow. 


I envy your visit to his eagle-nest farm. I've 
been there once or twice myself." 

Uncle Lars and a strapping son soon arrived. 

"Here are your company," announced the 
captain. 'Take good care of them, and don't let 
them fall over the cliff." 

The uncle thanked the captain in a grave, 
sober way. He was like the ruggedness about 
him, and it seemed improbable that he had ever 
laughed aloud; perhaps, when he had been 
younger, he had smiled, but that had been so 
long ago that the memory of it had been for- 

The two men gathered up the girls' belongings, 
and bidding them to follow, led the way up a 
path which zig-zagged up the mountain. The 
lowering afternoon sun had left the chasm of the 
fjord, but it still shone above them. In one of 
their frequent pauses to rest, which the men 
solicitously insisted on, they caught a glimpse 
of the "Viking," which appeared like a toy ship 
below them. Up, up they chmbed; but the girls 
were strong-limbed and vigorous, and were not 
far behind the men when they reached the top. 

With a good deal of awe they were received 
by the women folks, for it was a rare thing for 
city ladies to visit such out of the way places. 
Some of the younger children had never been 
away from their mountain home, while the 
travels of the older ones had been limited to 
some neighboring farm, perchance across the 


great fjord-chasm, or to the semi-yearly visits 
to the church in the valley below. 

The farm house was a large, low-built, timber 
structure, solid and substantial to withstand the 
severe winter. About it were clustered half a 
dozen outbuildings for the housing of stock and 
fodder. Within the house, in a sort of hall was 
a wonderfull collection of oars, fishing tackle, 
farm implements, game traps, great fur coats, 
rawhide boots, heads and antlers, powder horns 
and shot pouches. The living rooms were large, 
with timbered sides and smoke-stained ceilings. 
Every piece of furniture was home made, — long 
low tables, chairs, huge chests, beds built into 
and against the wall. Each room had an open 
fire-place. Shelves rested on wooden pegs driven 
into the log walls. 

The evening meal was soon spread, it being 
taken for granted that the travelers must be 
hungry. And what a spread ! A sort of vegetable 
soup, seasoned with bits of dried fish; "flad- 
brod" ; and coarse, heavy black-bread ; cheese, 
three kinds; cream and milk; preserved wild 
strawberries, — all these in wonderous quantities. 
White napkins, betraying long contact with 
odorous herbs in the chest, were placed near the 
visitors' plates. 

As the strangeness to each other wore off, 
questions regarding the family were asked and 
answered. The upland folk's dialect was odd 
to Atelia, but she had no difficulty in under- 


a? 1 


standing them. After the eating, the men and 
the visitors sat by the fireplace, in which a fire 
had been built. The evenings were getting cold, 
explained Uncle Lars. 

When bed time came, Atelia and Oletta were 
given another big room, where the bed was built 
in the recess under the stairs. It was elaborately- 
carved and painted in brilliant colors, and fur- 
nished with feather tick and feather quilts. As 
these good people, in common with their kind, 
believed that night air and draughts were very 
dangerous to good health, every opening that 
would admit any air was carefully and securely 
. closed ; and Atelia had difficulty in finding a way 

to admit a little air. 
* Atelia awoke early next morning. The sun was 
not yet up, but there were already signs of work 
coming from the kitchen. She got up and dressed 
I without awakening her cousin, then slipped out 
i into the open. Frost lay on the grass. Above 
^ ; the forest of pine, which hemmed in the meadows 
^ I and fields, the heights of solid rock stretched 
i on and upward until the distant mountain peaks 
' were reached, already covered with snow. Not 
far from the house a stream, clear and cold, 
splashed in the gray morning on to the edge 
of the fjord-chasm, where it made a leap and 
was dashed into spray on the rocks half way 
down. Atelia stood by the edge, which was 
protected by a stone wall, and gazed on the 
dfiT" I wonder- world about her. Presently the sun 





shone on a distant peak, then on another, until 
slowly the whole upper world was bathed in 
light; but down in the great rift at her feet 
the shadows were pearly gray, the silvery water- 
floor of the fjord reflecting but faintly the 
coming light above it. 

It seemed to Atelia Heldman that morning 
that she stood in quite another world, not quite 
completed, in the rough, not yet smoothed and 
finished for human habitation. She might well 
be in the morning of creation, the freshness of 
a new-bom world in her nostrils. And then her 
spiritual self was also lifted up, until she was 
for a moment, carried away by the spirit, and 
she saw life from its beginning to its end; yes, 
further than the so-called end, for her vision 
extended to the eternities. It was then that this 
young woman rested her clasped hands on the 
stone wall, closed her eyes, and poured out her 
gratitude to God. After a time she went back 
to the house with new hfe and inspiration for 
her daily tasks among her people. 

And these people needed the new life that 
Atelia could and did bring. Away from the 
world, they lived and died in a world by them- 
selves. Many of them had never been to school, 
but they could read the Bible and the news- 
paper which came by the tri-weekly mail. Atelia's 
two girl cousins would not have known the use 
of puff box or manicure set; but they had 
strength and primitive beauty which "ladies of! 



culture" might well envy. Here where life reveited 
back to first principles, thought Atelia, here 
should be a field ripe for the gospel. 

The long evenings were opportune time for 
story telling and talk; and Ateha made wise 
use of such occasions. Uncle Lars was a great 
Bible reader, so it was not difficult for her to 
get him reading passages and commenting on 
them. She asked him questions, which if he 
failed to answer satisfactorily, she would explain 
herself. Carefully, vaihout giving offence, she 
would lead the hstening family to see that what 
the priest had taught them from childhood did 
not always agree with the Bible in which they 
trusted so implicitly. The morning after one 
of these conversations, her boy cousin had 
boasted to a neighbor that ''Ateha knew more 
scripture than all the priests in the 'bygd.' " Be 
that as it may, Ateha taught them as one who 
had received of the hght, and was in duty bound 
to transmit that hght to others. 

For a week, things vrent on nicely. Slowly, 
the warm rays of the gospel penetrated the 
former coldness of so-called religion, softly and 
tenderly it coaxed the sleeping hfe; then the 
heart relaxed into more receptive mood; under 
the continuous play of benign rays, there sprang 
up a new growth. Perchance, thought Ateha, 
the ground is now ready for the vrork of a 
missionary. When I get home, I shall report. 

One day Ateha found her cousin Marie, who 


spent much of her time in the stable working 
with the cows, in sore straits. 

"What is the matter?" asked AteHa. 

"I hate to tell you, cousin. It's about that 
book you let me take." 

"What about it?" 

"Well, yesterday I was reading it out here, 
and I got so interested that I was late with 
the milking. Mother came out to see what was 
the matter, and in her anger, she jerked the 
book out of my hand and threw it into the fire 
where the water was warming for the cows." 

"Oh, is that all? That's nothing to cry about. 
I can get plenty more books like that. Did you 
finish the book?" 

"Not quite." 

"Well, some day I'll see that you do. Are you 
through milking today? I wish I could help 
you; but milking is one thing I can't do." Atelia 
seated herself on the fragrant hay, and asked 
her cousin to sit by her. "Marie, you do not 
talk much. Haven't you some fairy tale to tell 
me, I mean a tale that belongs up here to these 
mountains and fjords?" 

Marie bethought herself a moment. "There 
is one," she said, "about Snetoppen." 

"Tell it to me." 

"The saying about here is that right on the! 
tip-top of the snow-clad mountain, there is a 
little grass plot no larger than a bed. Well, if 
one would climb up there and sleep on that! 


grass on Mid-summer Night, one would dream 
of ones future husband." 

"Well! Have you ever tried it?" 

"Oh, no," she said in some confusion. 

"It would be worth the effort, don't you 
think ?" 

"I — I suppose so." 

"Do you know of any more fairy tales?" 

"There is another story which I heard years 
ago. I didn't understand it then, but I think 
I do now." 

"What is it?" 

"The story goes that away up on Istindet 
somewhere in the forest on the side hill, there 
is a man who has done some misdeed, and for 
that he was turned to either a trold, a deer, or 
a tree. No one knows which. He can be released 
only by some other person who shall have im- 
plicit faith in him, who shall beheve in him 
through good or ill, as firmly as the rocks in 
Istindet itself." 

"And what do you understand by the story, 
Marie?" asked Atelia after a thoughtful silence. 

"I think I understand, but it is hard to explain. 
When we love somebody, we ought to be true — 
never give up — our love should be as strong and 
as firm as the rocks in the mountain." 

"And such a love will shield the one loved 
from any danger, — will prove a wall of protection 
around him — yes, that's it, Marie." And Ateha 


put her arm about her cousin, and looking into 
the tell-tale face, saw therein a counterpart of 
her own secret. How alike is love in valley or 
in mountain, with lady or the lady's maid! 

The fine weather was in danger of passing, 
said Uncle Lars; so the visitors would better 
get back to Skarpen. When winter once set in, 
it was difficult to travel. The evening before 
they were to climb down the mountair and meet 
the "Viking," they had an unusually bright fire 
in the big fireplace. The "Eagle-nest" farmer 
wanted to give his guests a warm send-off so 
that they would come again. Ateha promised 
that if she remained in Norway long enough 
she would certainly do that. As for Oletta, she 
didn't know; Ateha must have the credit for 
her coming. Uncle Lars told of hunting ad- 
ventures, the girls sang some folk-songs, and 
then Ateha announced she would tell a story — 
a true story. 

The company settled themselves to enjoy it. 
A rising wind outside rattled a loose door, which 
Uncle Lars got up and secured. Atelia waited 
until he was seated again, then she began in a 
clear, earnest voice: 

"On the 23rd day of December, 1805, a baby 
boy was born over in the land of America — " 
Atelia told the wonderful story of the boy 
Prophet Joseph Smith, his vision of the Father 
and the Son, and his receiving the plates from 


which the Book of Mormon was translated. She 
told the story well, that evening, and it made 
its impression on her listeners. At its close, her 
aunt's clicking knitting needles ceased, and she 
said in a very matter-of-fact way: 

**That is a very pretty story, Atelia; but you 
had better tell it to the priest, and find out 
whether it is really true or not." 


[HE return trip to Skarpen was devoid of 
special incident. The fisher-folks said 
the two girls were wise in getting back 
when they did, as it seemed that fine 
weather was over. In fact, the very day after, 
the clouds from the north-west darkened the 
sky, and the wind freshened to quite a gale. 
This was not called a storm by the fishers, for 
most of them put out as usual for their day's 

News came to Skarpen that day that Gran- 
fjord, about a dozen miles away, was full of 
herring. A whale had been seen in the offing, 
which explained the presence of the fish. The 
news was told to every fisher on his return, 
so that evening the whole village was astir, 
preparatory for a general rush to Granfjord in 
the morning. 

The morning broke gray and cold. The wind 
blew steadily on the bay, so the white-caps chased 
each other in regular intervals landward until 
they broke in spray on the shore. Provisions 
and extra clothing were stowed away in the 
boats, and at daybreak, a fleet of boats pushed 
out on the rough water, and with sail and oar, 
made for the fishing grounds. Men, women. 


and children went, nearly depopulating the 
village. Those who could not fish, could sort 
and clean on shore. 

Atelia went also. She could not resist the 
excitement of taking part in a big catch of 
fish. The sea, that morning, was also to her 
liking; and she sat in her uncle's boat by the 
tiller and steered. 

Arriving at Granfjord, the women and children 
were set ashore, while the men hurriedly rowed 
into favorable positions for casting their nets. 
The fishing was gdod all morning. Boat-load 
after boat-load came to shore, unloaded, then 
they sped back, leaving the women to work over 
the big shining piles of fish. The wind did not 
lessen, and there was threatening rain, so shortly 
after noon, Atelia had a chance to return to 
Skarpen with a boat-load of women and children, 
and she went with them. Storm or no storm, 
every man there would remain as long as he 
could draw in such a harvest. 

Oletta was busy in the house when Atelia 
returned. The house-keeper had made the rooms 
clean and cosy. The fire felt good. As Atelia 
was going up to her room to change her clothing, 
Oletta called: 

**Atelia, I forgot — here's a letter for you. It 
must have come a day or two ago." 

Atelia received the letter, then went on up 
stairs to her room. A letter! Was it from 
Sister Nordo, or perhaps from Uncle Sande about 


the insurance. The light was bad, so she went 
to the window, pushed aside the curtain, and 
looked at the handwriting. It was from neither 
,of these persons, and the post mark was Strand. 
Atelia's heart beat rapidly. What could it mean ? 
What had Halvor Steen to say to her? She 
dallied with the letter as if afraid to break the 
seal and read its contents. A gust of wind, 
accompanied with a dash of rain on the window, 
caused her to look out. A storm was surely 
coming, a real coast storm. 

At last she got the letter out, unfolded it, 
and read: 

''Dear Atelia, 

I am coming to see you. Yesterday I came 
back from quite an extended trip, and then first 
learned of the terrible misfortune to Heimstad. 
,1 went up there as fast as I could. I found 
the blackened ruins, but not you. Atelia, as I 
stood there and looked and realized that Heim- 
stad was gone, I wondered whether or not my 
chance of earthly and eternal happiness had 
also vanished. And now I cannot rest until I 
find that out. I am coming to you as fast as 
the steamer will bring me. I shall travel part 
of the way in the regular coast boat, then our 
mutual friend. Captain Moen, will take me to 
Skarpen. Look out for me, and give me as 
kindly welcome as you can. I have a lot to tell 
you. I had a long, and a mighy enlightening 


talk with the President in Christiania not long 
ago — but ril tell you all about that when I see 
you. — I'll be right on the heels of this letter. 
Sincerely yours as ever and as of old, 


Atelia pressed her face against the window- 
pane, but she did not see the rain, nor for a 
moment, hear the wind. Halvor was coming to 
her, the Halvor as of old, with something 
added — yes there must be something added, or 
else what was the use. Oh, what a letter ! Could 
she not read between the lines! She held the 
letter up by the rain-washed window, and read 
it again. Then she tucked it away in her trunk 
and changed her clothes. 

*'Atelia," shouted Oletta from below. "Come 
down. There is a terrible storm coming." 

Atelia came down smiling to the frightened 
cousin. They both looked out of the window 
seaward. *'It's not so bad," said Atelia. 

"Not yet," answered Oletta; "but Fve seen 
big storms before, and this is the way they 

"We'll hope for the best. If it gets bad, the 
folks will not attempt to come home, but will 
spend the night at Granfjord." 

How could Atelia go about so light-hearted, 
thought her cousin. She had perhaps never seen 
a real storm, which on that coast, never ceased 
until it had taken its toll of human life. Listen! 


Every loose window or board rattles in the wind. 

The storm that broke upon the coast that 
late afternoon was one of the worst known in 
the history of that storm-frequented region; not 
in its loss of life, which happily was not great, 
but in its suddenness and fierceness. To Atelia 
and Oletta who stood watching it from the kitchen 
window, it seemed that the distant sea and 
sky had blended into one gray mass, and was 
rushing in upon the coast, bent on the de- 
struction of everything in its way. First the 
outer islands, then the nearer headlands were 
swallowed up as if they had become a part of 
the coming storm-cloud. A single fishing boat 
on the fjord hurriedly steered for shore, and 
barely escaped. It became dark. A wild, weird 
cry came from afar, and changed to a thunderous 
roar as the rain struck walls and windows and 
roofs. The rain pelted and beat upon the house 
as if it were a horde of human beings clammer- 
ing for admittance. Water ran down the win- 
dows, down and under the door which met the 
brunt of the assault, until a stream ran on to 
the floor. 

The girls lighted the lamp. They prepared 
some supper which they partook of without ap- 
petite. As the evening advanced, Atelia tried 
to read aloud, but there was no heart or interest 
in it. About midnight, they supposed that the 
storm had abated somewhat, so they lay down 
to try to sleep. When at last they dropped off, 


it seemed but a troubled moment when it was 
morning, — morning by the clock only, for without 
it was yet dark and stormy. 

In time a little gray light trickled from the 
south east. Skarpen lay against the cliff thor- 
oughly washed. As dayhght came, the wind 
was yet strong and the waves rolled in thun- 
derous roar against the headlands. The fishing 
fleet could not come home yet. A few of the 
old men, some women and venturesome children 
came from the shelter of the houses, and stood 
looking seaward. Atelia and Oletta joined them. 

*'What do you think. Father Hans — are the 
folks all right?" asked one of an old man who 
looked as though the sea had done its worst 
for him. 

"Oh yes, yes," he mumbled. "They'll have 
sense enough to stay on land." 

"I hope so," said a woman as she scoldingly 
picked up a child that had run after her. 

"What is that against Sten island ?" asked one. 

All eyes were strained in the direction in- 
dicated. A black spot could be seen against 
the white, foamy line at the base of the cliff. 

"It looks like a ship might be on the rocks," 
croaked the old man, as if this was no uncommon 
thing. "Here, Karen, let me take your glass." 

The old man leveled his glass at the dark 
object. For a long time — it seemed — he gazed. 
Then slowly he lowered the glass and said: "It 
looks like the 'Viking.' " 


'What! the 'Viking' on the rocks — and — 
Halvor — '' cried Atelia, as she grasped Oletta 
by the arm. "0, dear God!" The wild, gray, 
stormy world seemed to swallow her up and blot 
her out completely. Oletta held her from falling. 
The possibihty that Halvor, who was coming to 
her with words of reassuring love, was wrecked 
on the cruel rocks of Sten island came thus 
suddenly to her. ''Oh, no; Oletta, tell me it 
can't be true." 

Oletta did not understand this sudden out- 
burst, but her cousin's colorless face frightened 
her. "Come, let us go to the house," pleaded 

Atelia stood for a moment. Then as if freed 
from some enemy, she straightened. She was 
herself again. She grasped the old fisherman 
by the arm. 

"Are you sure it is the 'Viking'?" 

"Yes; quite sure." 

"And the steamer is in danger, is it not?" 

"Well, yes; it's a wonder if there is a soul 
alive on her — " 

Atelia could not repress a cry. 

"That depends, of course, how long the boat 
has been there." 

"Can't they be rescued?" 

"Oh, yes," he replied in a matter-of-fact tone, 
"if there were anybody to do the rescuing." 

"You mean if we had men and boats." 

"Certainly. I can't do anything, and I'm the 


best man left here. No woman could take a 
boat to that wreck." 

Atelia looked out upon the seathing, rolling 
water as if she were a general looking over a 
field preparing for battle and outlining her plan 
of campaign. In a moment she had decided. 

"I can take a boat to that wreck," she said 
simply. "Come to the house, Oletta." 

Atelia ran to the house, the other followed. 

''What are you going to do, Atelia?" 

"I'm going to take a boat out to the wreck." 

'Oh, can you?" 

Tes: I'm a sailor, Oletta — the best sailor in 
Norway, so I have heard said. Now, Atelia 
Heldman, prove your right to the title." As she 
talked, she hurriedly took off some clothing 
and put on other, — heavy and waterproof. "Is 
there a good boat in the place, Oletta?" 

The girl thought for a moment. "Yes, there 
is Olof Anders' new boat. He is away and has 
it locked up in his boat house." 

"We'll take it." 


"I'll pay for any damage. Help me to get it 
out. Come on. Bring an ax." 

"If you go, I'm going with you." 

"No; you're no sailor. Stay here." 

"I'm going with you," and with that Oletta 
also hurriedly put on seagoing attire. 

The old man and the augmented flock of 
women followed the two girls down to the water 



and to Olof Ander's boat house. Oletta tried 
the lock, but it was secure. Then with one sure 
blow of the ax, she broke the fastening, and the 
door opened. 

**Here, all of you," she called to the women, 
"help me with the boat. Hurry, dear folks, time 
is precious," as the women hesitated in taking 
part in this piratical proceeding. However, the 
boat was easily launched, and the two girls had 
it outside before either help or hindrance came. 
Atelia threw in bales of rope, the ax from the 
house, and a bailing pail. She saw that the 
mast was ready to place in the socket, and that 
the sail was in order. "Now, Oletta, if you must 
come, step in. I will need help, but — " 

"Fm going with you," replied the girl as she 
took her place in the pitching boat. 

Atelia shoved away, leaped in, seized the oars, 
and was soon away from the shore. Then she 
put the mast in place, and carefully lifted the 
sail. The wind was dead ahead, so great care 
must be taken to get out into the open for 
tacking, which was a difficult thing with such 
a sail and such a boat. As the crowd on shore 
stood in breathless wonder and watched the girl 
maneuver her boat safely out, they shouted their 
hurrah, and the old man said: 

"She'll make it if anybody can. She's a sailor." 

Atelia Heldman was sailing another race, a 
race, not for prize or honor, but a race for life — 
a race backed by love against heavy odds. 



Carefully, she tested her strange boat, which 
proved to be a good, steady sailor. She instructed 
Oletta how to hold the rope which regulated the 
sail, then with her hand on the tiller, she brought 
the boat on its right tack. With all her skill 
and care, she could not keep some of the highest 
wave-crests from dashing over into the boat. 
The wind was bitterly cold. Upon a ragged wave 
the boat balanced, then down it slid to a deep 
trough of the green sea ; but they made headway. 

For half an hour they kept on their course. 
Then Atelia brought the boat to a standstill 
square against the wind, telling Oletta to lower 
the sail gradually. Then when the boat had 
turned to the left tack, the "skipper" instructed 
her "mate" to carefully lift the sail, and adjust 
her position to the new tilt of the boat. The 
wind caught the full sail once more, and again 
they made progress. 

As they neared Sten island, they got a better 
view of the wrecked steamer, which was wedged 
in between the rocks. The full force of the big 
Atlantic waves dashed against these rocks, and 
at times seemed to sweep the deck of the un- 
fortunate vessel. The rescuers were not near 
enough to count the number of men clinging to 
the rigging, but they could see them there out 
of reach of the bulk of water which broke across 
the deck. How long these men could hold out 
depended perhaps on how long they had been 
in their perilous position. Then again when the 


ship would be dashed to pieces was also a matter 
of conjecture. 

With a prayer in her heart and every nerve 
and muscle keyed to do the exact right thing, 
Atelia raced her boat across the waves. In an 
hour, they were half way and all well. True, 
the two girls were cold, and their feet were wet; 
but these were trifles in the big thing they were 
doing. Oletta baled out the boat, carefully fol- 
lowing Atelia's instructions in every move. 

''How many men are there, Oletta? Can you 

"One, two, three, four, five — no, six," counted 
the girl. 

''They might all be there. — If only we can help 
them. — Oletta, how can we help them?" 

It was difficult to talk in the roar of wind 
and wave. It occurred now to the girls that 
perhaps they could do nothing. They would not 
dare approach the stranded steamer, for they 
themselves would be dashed on the rocks and 
their boat crushed like a shell. The men could 
not possibly reach their boat. Now, what could 
be done? 

"The men see us," said Oletta. "They are 
waving to us." 

"What can we do?" shouted Ateha against the 

They were now much nearer their destination. 
Yes, there were six men chnging to the mast. 
It was a good thing that the "Viking" had a 


big, strong mast. Atelia now remembered, with 
gratitude, that feature of the httle steamer. 
Ateha motioned to her companion to leave the 
sail and come nearer. 

"Do you know, Oletta, if there is a good 
landing on the lee side of Sten island?" 

"A fisherman once lived there, but it is de- 
serted now." 

"And can we climb to the top of the island?" 

"Oh yes; there is a good path." 

"Listen! we can't get near the 'Viking* by 
water; we'll climb the island, and see what we 
can do with ropes. See, the steamer is so close 
to the cliff that we can throw the men a rope." 

"It might be farther than it looks, Ateha." 

"True, but I see no other way. Get back and 
manage the sail. We are to change our course." 

As their boat veered about, there was danger 
of the big waves capsizing them, and it required 
all their skill to keep afloat. Soon the island 
would hide them from the wreck. 

"Are the men all there yet, Oletta?" Oletta 
proved to have better eyes. 

"One, two, three, four five. — One is gone — no, 
there he is — they're all there." 

"Thank God !" 

"The men are waving to us again. They think 
we are leaving." 

"Wave back to them. I can't let go the tiller 
for a moment. Stand up and wave your cap." 

Oletta did so, and it seemed to the girls that 


a faint cheer came to them from the men, as 
they disappeared behind the headland. 

The island gave them shelter from the direct 
force of the storm, and it was not so difficult 
to sail up to the deserted landing. They managed 
to fasten their boat, and climb safely out. What 
a relief it was to again be able to move and 
keep from freezing! Hurriedly they got the 
coils of rope and the ax out of the boat, and 
began the wet cHmb up the steep sides of Sten 


TEN ISLAND is just a big rock standing 

alone out in the wild Atlantic. Its top 

area of two or three acres is somewhat 

level ; but the storms of ages have washed 

every vestage of soil from its hard surface, and 

what little vegetation it possesses is hidden in 

protected crevices and ledges. 

Atelia and Oletta climbed on up the steep path 
to the top. There they had to brace themselves 
against the wind which seemingly, desired to 
lift them bodily from the rock and cast them 
into the sea. They made their way with what 
haste they could to the outer sea-ward edge 
where the top surface was broken and cracked. 
Slowly moving to the edge, they looked below. 
The stranded steamer was directly below them. 
With thunderous roar, the waves dashed against 
the rocks and swept over the doomed vessel, long 
arms of heavy spray reaching upward as if 
trying to drag the men in the rigging down; 
but they were all there yet, six of them, clinging 
tenaciously for life, hatless all, coatless some, 
drenching wet all of them. 

The girls shouted, but for some time, they 
could not attract the men's attention ; but when 
they looked up and saw hope for rescue, they 

"ONE, TWO * * * * ALL HERE" 219 

could be seen to straighten into new life. Atelia 
unwound some of the smaller rope, tied a stone 
on the end, then with all her strength, threw 
it out toward the men; but the rope fell short, 
and they had to draw it up again. Once more 
she tried. This time her aim was not good, and 
the stone fell on the deck. The men cheered. 

**Here, let me try," said Oletta. '1 can throw 
better than you." 

Once, twice, Oletta tried, Atelia crying out in 
her anxiety. Then the third time the rope fell 
within reach, and one of the men seized it. The 
girls now fastened a heavier rope to the light 
one, then motioned for the men to draw it down, 
which they did. They fastened their end se- 
curely to the mast while the girls wound their 
end about the boulders on top. 

But when it was all done, it was useless. No 
one could climb up that steep rope, especially 
half-frozen men. The men waved and made un- 
recognizable suggestions ; but the two girls stood 
as if at the end of their resources. In the half- 
drowned forms below, Ateha was sure she 
recognized Halvor and Captain Moen. Gracious! 
that was a big wave. If the mast should break, 
or the boat itself be dashed to pieces ! Oh, what 
more could be done! 

Was not that Halvor who pointed up, then 
further down the cliff? Again he made the 
movement. Was he telling them something to 
do ? Atelia leaned far over. The wind, it seemed. 


would not let her fall over, for she felt as if 
she were leaning against a solid wall. 

''Oletta, what are they pointing at — the 
men — see V* 

'The rope is too steep." 

"Is there a place to fasten it farther down? 
— Yes, that's what they mean. I see a place, if 
we can only get to it. Here, Oletta, unfasten 
the rope again, but be careful you do not lose it." 

Atelia made a loose loop in the larger rope, 
which she shpped about her waist. Then she 
tied securely the end of another rope about her 
under her arms. 

"Now," she said, "I see a place where I think 
I can climb down. You get well back and let 
this other rope out slowly as I need it. Play 
it out across this smooth rock, so that if I 
should slip and fall, you can hold me until I can 
get my position again." 

"Let me go, Atelia." 

"No; I am lighter than you. I could not hold 
you. All right, now." 

Slowly and carefully Atelia climbed down the 
rocks. They were slippery and oftimes sharp. 
She bruised her knees and cut her hands, but 
she did not heed, nor even know it. As she 
let herself down from shelf to shelf, the rope 
under her arms became so tight that it hurt; 
but that was assurance that Oletta had a firm 
hold above. As she got nearer to the waves, 
their roar deafened her, and their spray some- 

"ONE, TWO * * * * ALL HERE" 221 

times shut out her vision of the ship and men 
below. Would she be in time? WTiat a 
thunderous shock that was! Had the ship gone 
to pieces? No; there it was yet. The big rope 
was dangling from her waist out to the mast. 
Sometimes it pulled hard. She had provided 
plenty of slack rope, she thought; but if the 
mast went, or the boat itself went now, she 
would go to destruction with the rest. The 
rocks were so slippery, for the rain came in 
squalls. Neither of the girls had provided them- 
selves with heavy sea boots; so now, Atelia's 
shoes were wet and torn, and the sharper rocks 
on which she trod hurt her feet. 

There, at last, was the place in the face of 
the cliff to which Halvor had pointed. It was 
a wide shelf, just out of reach of the waves. 
Could she reach it? She could see no place on 
which she could let herself down to it. She 
stood for an instant pressing against the wall 
of rock, then she felt herself slipping, slipping. 
Her head swam. The waves seemed to be 
reaching out for her, and their voice to be 
calling. It grew dark — but just for an instant — 
then she was herself again, standing safely on 
the wider shelf of rock. 

She looked hurriedly about her, nor did she 
heed the cheering men. Well back from the 
edge were a number of boulders. Unloosening 
the larger rope from her waist, she wound it 
around and around one of them, testing it to see 


if it would hold. Then she hailed the men. The 
rope was nearly on a level now, and it was not 
far to the mast, which, luckily, was steady. 

See! Captain Moen tries it. Hand over hand 
he comes along, and in a very few moments he 
drops safely on the shelf. Then another, and 
another, until the six had crossed from danger 
to safety. When the last had landed he ex- 
claimed, 'Thank God, thank God." 

And the others said, *'Amen, in the name of 
Jesus, Amen." 

But where was the rescuer? Ah, there she 
lay, back of the big boulder, as if dead, but 
clinging with bleeding hands to the heavy rope 
which reached from those hands around the 
rocks then across the wild sea to the mast. 
Halvor reached her first. In a dazed way he 
looked at her lying there drenched and broken. 
He dropped down by her. 

"Atelia, Atelia," he cried. He pushed back the 
big coils of hair from the pale face. He lifted 
her head into his arms. Captain Moen and 
others came. 

*'Here," said the captain, "there is just a 
drop left." He pulled a flask from his pocket, 
and Halvor put it to her lips. She moved as he 
was doing it, then opened her eyes and looked 
at the men about her. 

"Halvor," she smiled. "And Captain Moen — 
and all the men — one, two — six." 

''ONE, TWO * * * * ALL HERE'' 223 

"Yes, Atelia, you great, brave girl, we're all 
here — and because of you." 

Atelia struggled to her feet, looked at the 
smaller rope still about her waist. ''Oletta is up 
there," she said, "holding to her post of duty. 
Go to her — somebody." 

- Three of the men slowly scaled the difficult 
path. They w^ere weak, and stiff and sore, but 
they made their way upward, and there found 
the other heroine bravely holding the rope; but 
she was nearly dead with cold. The men took 
the rope from her, then walked her back and 
forth until warmth came back to her chilled 
body. That is all they could do for the time 

Captain Moen found a less difficult way to 
get up, and with his and Halvor's assistance 
Atelia also reached the top again. The wind 
had lessened a little, and the party of rescued 
and rescuers made their way across Sten island, 
down its landward side to the deserted fisher-'s cabin. There they found dry wood and 
matches, and soon a fire was blazing in the 
old stove. 

The rescued men lay on the floor by the com- 
forting warmth, and some of them soon went 
to sleep. All were so completely tired out that 
they got into as easy positions as they could 
to remain still and rest. Captain Moen looked 
at Halvor and Atelia drying themselves by the 
fire. He himself tried to keep awake, but the 


long watch and strain had so worn him out 
that he at last lay down on the floor with his 
men., Oletta was the best preserved of the 
party, and she replenished the fire as it was 
needed. Atelia had never breathed a word about 
any lover, and so one coming so suddenly to 
her from the wreck was a great wonder to her 
cousin. She supposed it was all right, for the 
man was a fine-looking one, and Atelia appeared 

*'Halvor," Atelia said, "you also lie down to 
rest. You are nearly dead for want of sleep." 

"Yes, I am— but— " 

"I am all right now. A little stiff and sore, 
^nd tired — but you — how long were you up in 
the rigging?" 

"Nearly all night — and you, dear, came, risked 
your life — " 

"There now — we'll talk about it some other 
time. Lie right here." 

"I— I believe I will." 

All the men were asleep. Atelia got stiffly 
up, tidied her torn and bedragged apparel as 
best she could. "How is the storm?" she asked 
her cousin, who was looking out of the open 

"The worst is over, I think. Some of the 
boats are coming home from Granfjord." 

'Do they see the wreck?" 

'It appears not; they are making straight 
for home." 



*'ONE, TWO * * * * ALL HERE" 225 

"Is that possible?" Atelia came to the window 
and looked out. The sea was quieter. "I be- 
lieve one boat is coming this way." 

As they gazed, they saw a number of the 
returning boats change their course so as to 
sail by Sten island. They soon disappeared 
behind the headland, but in time one of them 
came into sight again. 

"They have seen our smoke," said Atelia. 

The boat sailed up to the shore. The girls 
met the surprised men on the landing. How 
came these girls here, looking as they did? 

What — what are you doing here ?" they asked. 

Ts the diking' still on the rocks?" 

"What's left of her. She's being fast pounded 
to pieces." 

"Can nothing be saved?" 

"Let us thank God, my dear lady, if perchance 
some of the crew and passengers are saved. — Do 
you know anything about them?" 

"Come up to the cabin and see." 

The three fishers followed the girls, wondering 
what they would find. 

"Sh — don't make a noise," admonished Atelia. 
They opened the door and saw the six men 
lying asleep. "For the love of heaven — " 

"Sh They are all here — one, two, three, 

four, five, six." She pointed to each of them 
as she counted. "Let them sleep." 


As they stepped out, they saw other boats 
coming and tie up by the two already there. 
Oletta's father was among the men. He had 
been to Skarpen, and hearing of the two girls* 
doings, had hastily placed clothing and provisions 
in his boat and sailed to Sten island as fast 
as he could. He was overjoyed when he learned 
what had been done. Atelia and Oletta wrapped 
themselves in the warm shawls which he had 
brought and went down to the boats where quite 
a number of men had gathered. To these the 
girls had to tell how the men had been rescued. 

"The Lord's hand was in it," said one. 

"It was," answ^ered Atelia reverently. 

Toward the middle of the afternoon those of 
the men who were not aw^ake were awakened, 
and the whole party set sail for Skarpen. Atelia 
sat in the stern of her uncle's boat, and with 
her was Halvor. This time neither of them had 
anything to do with helm or oar or rope. They 
were satisfied to let others do the sailing. They 
were content to sit quietly, close together, 
Atelia's bruised hands in his. She was no longer 
fearful, for she felt that every barrier between 
them had been removed. Had her love preserved 
him, saved him -her love, with the love of God, 
his Father? She believed it had. A prayer of 
thankfulness was in her heart. And he also was 
satisfied. Touched by the illuminating light of 
the gospel which had come to him, he could see 

"ONE, TWO * * * * ALL HERE" 227 

this girl's radiant beauty of soul — and to think 
that he was alive, and that he had not lost 
her, but might have her for time and eternity — ! 

*'See, the 'Viking' is about gone." 

The steamer lay on its side now, broken and 
in ruins. Each wave washed over the battered 
hull, hiding it for a moment under the green 
w^ater. Atelia turned away from the sight and 
hid her face in Halvor's big coat. 


HE storm which swept the west coast 
brought sleet and snow to the uplands 
of Telemarken; and Elder Waldemar 
Larsen was out in the worst of it. He 
was making his farewell visit to the friends and 
Saints whom he had made acquaintance with in 
his missionary labors. Brother and Sister Bon- 
den had been so enthusiastically active that he 
had to remain in their neighborhood for nearly 
a week filling appointments to speak, which they 
had made for him. He had enjoyed every minute 
of that time, but the delay had caused him 
to miss the last boat on the lakes. The ice had 
stopped inland w^ater traffic for the winter. The 
Elder would have to walk most of the way back 
to Skein. 

This did not worry the missionary. There 
were many stopping places on the way, with 
good people that would never forgive him if he 
passed them by. Brother Bonden lived nearly 
at the end of his Telemarken route, and when 
Elder Larsen had left him for his homeward 
journey the weather had been quite pleasant 
for that season of the year. However, on the 
second day out, the storm had come, and had 


caught the missionary as he was trudging along 
the high-road leading down to Thorvand. 

The air was full of falling flakes. From the 
top of a hill, the lone traveler saw the frozen 
lake, now being coated with snow. He knew 
the country well, so he was in no danger of 
getting lost, even in a snow-storm. It was the 
middle of the afternoon when he paused to rest 
on this hill, and as he seated himself on the 
low stone wall which bounded the road, he looked 
over the dreary, white prospect. 

This was perhaps his last visit to these parts. 
Would he ever come back to this Norway which 
he had learned to love? He was going home 
soon, home to America and to the Valleys of 
the Mountains; and his heart became soft with 
thoughts of loved ones waiting for him there. 
Many a snow storm had he been out in up in 
his native mountains, and there was always 
something grand in watching the snow either 
fall softly or drive fiercely from heaven and 
deck the earth with its cold, white mantle. 

But he must be getting on. It was yet a 
few hours walk to Sister Nordo's, where he 
would have to stop for the night. Whew, that 
was a stiff breeze! The snow pelted him in the 
face, and as he looked up to make sure that he 
was on the road, he suddenly saw before him 
Uncle Sande's house stand out against the gray 
sky. He remembered distinctly his last and 
only visit to that house, and how that when he 




had left, the owner had said, "Come again." 
Waldemar Larsen stopped and thought a 
moment. Yes, he would accept, even at this 
late day. Uncle Sande's invitation. 

But what kind of reception would he receive? 
Well, he would trust the Lord for that. There 
could be no harm in calling and bidding the 
old man goodby. He remembered Atelia had 
said that her uncle was a lonely old man, now 
since his old housekeeper had died and left him 
to take care of himself. He remembered also 
that Atelia had told of a certain sad phase of 
Uncle Sande's life. All thoughts of ''getting 
even" for the argumentative drubbing the man 
had given him on his former visit was far from 
the young man's mind as he went up to the 
door and knocked. 

In a few moments Uncle Sande himself opened 
the door. He stared at the snow-covered visitor. 
Waldemar looked into the old man's face to 
discover, if he could, the nature of the reception 
which awaited him. 

*1 am Elder Larsen," began the young man in 

"Yes; I know you; come in — come in out of 
the storm." 

"Thank you." Waldemar shook off the snow 
and stepped into the hall, where he was told to 
hang up his hat and coat. 

"Come in to the fire," said Uncle Sande — "This 


storm has come on suddenly — has taken us all 
by surprise, it seems." 

Waldemar explained that he was making his 
farewell visit to Telemarken, and thought he 
would just step in say goodby." 

'That's right; Fm glad you did. Fm glad 
you did not leave the country without letting 
me get another chance at you." 

The visitor looked at the old man who did 
not appear to be in a combatative mood. In fact, 
Uncle Sande seemed changed. He was older; his 
face had changed; his manner was gentler; his 
voice softer; he even smiled a little at Elder 
Larsen, as he placed a few more sticks on 
his fire. 

'*In the first place," said Uncle Sande, '1 have 
to ask your forgiveness for my ill treatment of 
you at times — yes, I know just what I have 
done and said. Without going into details, say 
that I am forgiven." 

"You are, and in fact have been for a long 
time. I try never to have ill feelings against 

'Thank you. Now let's say no more about 
that. The storm is bad outside, and it is getting 
dark. You can stay with me tonight." 
'Oh, I hadn't thought of that." 
'No; but there's no reason why you shouldn't, 
and I would very much like you to." 

Strange as it seemed to Waldemar, he could 
not doubt the old man's sincerity. Yes, he would 



be pleased to stay with him, if he desired. 

"Now, I had better explain to you why my 
room has a festal appearance. I was to have 
had a little celebration and a Httle company; 
but an hour ago I received a message that my 
company could not come, so I shall have to be 
content with what we two can do. It is dark. 
I will light the lamp." 

Elder Larsen looked about him. Now his at- 
tention was called to it, the room was adorned 
somewhat out of the ordinary with evergreens 
and autumn leaves. On the wall, as if occupying 
the place of honor amid bunting and green hung 
the portrait of a young woman. 

"Yes," explained the old man, as he noticed 
the direction of Waldemar's gaze, "that is 
Petrine, in whose loving memory I hold sacred 
this day. Forty-nine years ago she came into 
the world, twenty-seven years ago she left it." 

Waldemar now remembered the story as Atelia 
had related it to him, and he looked again at the 
portrait on the wall. So this was the girl whom 
Uncle Sande had won and then lost, and the 
cause of his never being married. He looked 
from the picture to his host. 

"I'll tell you the story after a while," said 
Atelia's uncle. "Just now we shall have some- 
thing to eat. My company, let me explain, was 
to have been two of my neighbors, that is all. 
I never have many people, for Petrine never 
cared for a crowd. She — but later for that." 


He cleared the table of books, and then spread 
a cloth. From an adjoining room, he brought 
dishes of cake, fruit, sweets, and sandwiches. 
In short order, he made and brought hot choco- 
late. He drew up the chairs, and turned up the 
wick of the lamp. ''Now, then," said he, "sit 
up; you are, no doubt hungry. The storm is 
still raging; pity any who must be out in it 

The Mormon Elder v/as asked to say the 
blessing, which he gladly did, not forgetting to 
thank the Lord for all His kindness, and asking 
divine favor for him who had provided the food 
and entertainment. Then as they ate they talked 
of Atelia, of the loss of Heimstad, and they told 
each other what nev/s they had of common 
interest. Then when Waldemar vowed he could 
eat no more. Uncle Sande drew a white cloth 
over the table, saying they would need some 
more after a while. They moved their chairs 
from the table. 

''Now," said Uncle Sande, "I must bum a 
little of the King's incense. You don't object?" 

"Oh, I like it," answered Waldemar. 

The other went to a drawer in an old-fashioned 
bureau, and took out a tiny bag of the sweet- 
smelling herbs. A small pinch was placed on 
the warm stove, and soon a pleasant fragrance 
filled the room. 

"Pe trine gave me this nearly thirty years ago. 
Each year at this ^anniversary, I have burned 


a little of it, until, as you see, it is nearly gone. 
I have enough to last a few years longer — about 
as long as I shall last, before I go to her. Have 
you ever heard of Petrine, Elder Larsen?" 

**Atelia has told me a little, a very little." 

"It is not very often I talk about her to 
anybody; but this day, as I have said, is sacred 
to her, and on this day I talk about her if I 
can get an attentive and sympathetic listener." 

"I shall be very glad to hear you." 

"Petrine — " the old man leaned back in his 
easy chair and with closed eyes seemed to dwell 
lovingly on the name, "Petrine was bom in a 
small village across Thorvand. As a young 
fellow, I used to sail across frequently, and one 
day I rescued a little girl from the water. I 
never was much of a ladies' man; for many 
years I had no love affairs, and I was called a 
confirmed old batchelor before I met her — again 
over in the village — Petrine, the little girl whom 
I had rescued from the lake, now grown to 
beautiful womanhood. That is the picture of 
her on the wall." 

Waldemar could easily have imagined that the 
sweet-faced girl was smiling down at them as 
the old man lived again the romance of his 
youth. To anyone else, she and all that pertained 
to her was no doubt commonplace enough, but 
to him who had been touched with the magic 
power of love, the world had been transformed 


and through all these long years she had reigned 
in his heart in undimmed glory. 

"Yes; she was all that is good, and true, and 
beautiful. We pledged our troth, and the wedding 
day was set. . . . Then she died.". . . . 

The old man ceased and there was silence 
for a time. Then he went on again with his 
story, mainly about the virtues of Petrine, of 
her beauty of soul and goodness of heart. "And 
so," he concluded, *T have been alone for these 
many years. I have had no eyes nor heart for 
any one else — perhaps I have been selfish in 
this — I don't know. Once a year, on the day 
of her birth, I invite two or three of my friends 
to take part with me in this simple demon- 
stration for her sake . . . Now I am about through 
with this life. I am waiting to go where she 
has gone. ... Is she waiting for me? Has she 
gone on to other spheres of existence? Will I 
meet her as she was here? Has her love per- 
sisted as mine has ? . . . . Yes ; Petrine is still 
Petrine and I shall meet her once more, — don't 
you think so, Elder Larsen?" 

"Yes ; Uncle Sande ; she is still the woman you 
knew here; and without doubt, she still loves 
you — that is, if you have done nothing to forfeit 
that love." 

The old man looked at Waldemar strangely 
"I have done nothing. No; I have been true 
to her." 

"And you have always been true to the truth 


of God as His Spirit has given you to see it. 
If so, then you have also been true to that sweet 
spirit angel who was to have been your wife." 

Uncle Sande leaned back in his chair again 
and closed his eyes. His mouth twitched, and he 
pressed his hands together. Elder Larsen 
went on: 

''You must pardon a young man talking to you 
like this ; but I must deliver my message of truth 
to young and old alike. We two have been 
enough together to understand each other. You 
have read the literature of the Latter-day Saints. 
You know w^hat they teach, so you will under- 
stand me when I ask, why do you not put your- 
self in the way that leads to Petrine as a wife? 
To make her your wife was the one supreme 
goal of your young life. Failure to do that has 
been your life's tragedy. But I tell you in all 
truth and soberness that even yet that need 
not fail. You may yet have Petrine as a wife, 
not for time, but for eternity, and with her by 
your side go on to the exaltation and glory 
which God has ordained for those who will." 

The young missionary had perfect freedom of 
thought and speech now, and without fear, he 
went on: "I think I realize your condition of 
mind, my friend. All your days you have been 
taught that in the other world to which we are 
all going, there is no such thing as family re- 
lationship of husband and wife. You have been 
taught that the union which meant everything 


to you, has been made forever impossible. You 
in your effort to be orthodox have stoically put 
down the demands of your heart. All your life," 
said the elder as if he could see into this man's 
innermost being, "your soul's longing has had 
to contend with what you were taught to look 
upon as one of God's incomprehensible laws. 
Now, I tell you that God's laws are natural, and 
just, and good. I tell you further that no good 
thing shall be withheld from good men and 
women, if they will place themselves in a position 
to receive it. . . . What you need to do is to have 
faith in Gk)d, in the living God who has revealed 
himself to man' in our day, to repent of your 
sins, and be baptized, by one having authority, 
for the remission of those sins, and then be 
confirmed a member of the Church of Jesus 
Christ of Latter-day Saints. Then the way is 
opened before you, and through your continued 
faithfulness, you may lay claim on the blessings 
of the everlasting gospel. And these blessings 
include all that your heart has longed for these 
many years." 

For quite a long time the two men sat in the 
silence of the night without speaking. Uncle 
Sande's head was bowed, and when Waldemar 
arose, and went to the window to look into the 
storniy night, the old man aroused as if from 
a dream. ''You're not going?" he asked. 

*'0h, no ; fear not ; the storm is fierce without, 


and I am thankful to have the shelter of your 

'Then come and sit down again. I feared you 
were going to leave me, just now when I needed 
you most. I am in turmoil of heart and mind, 
and I appreciate your presence. For many days 
I have been fighting — yes, just as you said; 
and Oh, the darkness that has been about me. 
It's hard to fight in the dark. If one has a 
glimmer of light, no matter how little or how 
far away, it is something." 

**Yes, dear friend; and I bring to you a blaze 
of light, not a glimmer only." 

**What profiteth it if one is immersed in light 
if the windows of the soul are closed to it? I 
realize to a degree that I have been incased in 
dogma which has shut out largely the revelations 
of heaven — not altogether, my friend, or I should 
not have responded to the light you have brought, 
even in the feeble manner which I have. I am 
grateful for the glimpse of a seeming dawn — 
pray God for me that I may see the full day." 

Waldemar's heart went out to the old man, 
sitting in his chair as if weak from some 
strenuous physical exertion; and he talked from 
the fulness of his soul to the man groping 
towards the light. The man listened, without 
comment, and when the Elder's words seemed to 
lag, he would say, "Go on." The fire burned 
low in the stove, the clock ticked steadily on 
the shelf, the wind without had ceased to make 


itself heard. It was late when Waldemar had 
no more to say, and then the old man shook 
himself and became active. The table was again 
uncovered, and again they ate. 

Now you must go to bed," said Uncle Sande. 
You are tired from tramping in the snow. It 
will be some time tomorrow before the roads 
will be passible, so I shall have your company 
in the morning." He lighted a lamp, and led 
the way up to the guest chamber under the roof. 
"Good-night, sleep well; I will call you in the 
morning when breakfast is ready." 

In his prayers that night, Waldemar Larsen 
thanked the Lord for the glorious way in which 
he had been able to **get even" with Uncle Sande. 


|FTER the storm, the sky of the west coast 
became sunny blue and the sea was 
quiet as a land-locked fjord. All who 
had taken part in the recent fight for 
life, rested for a few days with friends at 
Skarpen. Meanwhile the enterprising correspon- 
dent for the "Christiania Posten" sent an account 
of the wreck and the rescue to his paper, not 
sparing telegraphic toll or words of praise. 
"Posten" came to the town of Strand by early 
morning train, and Frue Steen read the account 
over the cooling contents of her coffee cup. 

Atelia and Halvor read it two days later by 
the light which streamed through the geranium- 
filled window of Aunt Maren's best room, in 
which these two had been left largely to them- 
selves. Atelia, sore and tired, had not cared to 
move about much, so Halvor, and occasionally 
Captain Moen, spent some of their time visiting 
with her. Halvor and she were alone that 
morning as Aunt Maren handed the paper in to 
Atelia, announcing the article in it about the 
wreck and rescue. 

"Halvor, read it," said Atelia, as she gave the 
paper to him. 

He came close to her and read the account. 
When he had finished she said: 



"The facts are stated fairly enough, but the 
praise is overdone." 

"Here is another item," said Halvor. " Tosten' 
says editorially that the King will surely send 
you and Oletta gold medals." 

"The King doesn't know that I am a Mormon." 

"And what difference does that make?" 

"It shouldn't perhaps, but it usually does 

There was a noise without as if some one had 
unexpectedly arrived. Halvor went to the win- 
dow, but saw no one. "It's a beautiful day 
outside," he remarked, "don't you think that if 
you wrapped up well you would enjoy a walk?" 

She came to the window where he was stand- 
ing. "Yes, it's fine, isn't it? After storm, 
comes sunshine." 

He linked his arm in hers, and drew her close. 
"And that's true in more ways than one," he 
•said. "We have entered the harbor of peace and 
rest, I am sure, Atelia." 

She looked up into his face. Her cheeks 
glowed with the old-time color, and a smile 
played about her lips. "Do you think so? Don't 
be so sure, Halvor. Why, we have hardly started 
on the voyage of life. We are not two old, gray 
headed people whose life's race is run." Her 
smile broke into a merry laugh. 

"I spoke as I felt, Atelia. I — let us sit do^vn 
here on the couch and talk it over." 

But hardly were they seated when a knock 


came on the door, and at Atelia's, ''Come in," 
Aunt Maren announced that her cousin Marie 
had arrived. 

"Marie ! What's she — but tell her to come in." 

In a moment Marie entered. She was a picture 
of health and a certain type of Norwegian 
country beauty. Atelia saw at a glance that her 
cousin from the Eagle-nest Farm had changed 
her apparel to the more modem city style, and 
she had done it nicely. The two girls greeted 
each other warmly. Then Atelia introduced 

*We were fearful that my brother Hans was 
on the Viking — and I wanted to see you — and I 
had to come!" Marie hastened to explain as if 
her sudden appearance needed some justification. 

"But he wasn't, was he?" 

"No; Aunt Maren has just told me that — but 
I'm so glad you're safe." 

"Yes, we're all safe, Marie, thank the Lord; 
and how are all the folks?" 

Before Marie could answer, another knock 
came on the door, and after a proper pause, 
Captain Moen stepped in. 

"Good morning, everybody," he said cheerfully. 
"What are you doing indoors on such a day — 
but halloo, w^ho's this? Marie, of all unexpected 
persons. How are you?" He came up to her 
and shook her hand, looking at her closely as 
he did so. The red burned in her cheeks for a 
moment, then in evident embarrasment she hung 
her head. Atelia came to her rescue. 


"Her folks were fearful that Hans might have 
been with you on the Viking ; Marie came to see." 

"Oh, no; Hans hasn't been with me for some 

"Aunt Maren has already assured her of that; 
and now she come to visit me. Now sit down, 
all of you, and don't stand around as if you 
were strangers and didn't know what to do." 

Then the talk became general. After a time 
Captain Moen again proposed that they all take 
a walk in the beautiful sunshine without. The 
air was cold, he said, so the ladies would have 
to put on warm clothing. 

"Halvor and I were just planning to go out," 
said Atelia. "Two more will make a jolly party." 

In a few minutes the four were walking along 
the mountain wall which overhung Skarpen. 
Atelia and Halvor lingered behind. Captain Moen 
and Marie strolled out on hard sands where the 
waves gently lapped the shore. Halvor and 
Atelia looked at them. 

"Your cousin seems to be a fine girl," said 

"And Captain Moen seems to be a fine man," 
remarked Atelia; and as they looked at each 
other and smiled, Atelia was reminded of the 
story Marie had told her up on the mountain, 
of the love that was to be a wall of protection — 
a love that must be as firm and everlasting as 
the very rocks in Istindet — and as she re- 
membered this story and looked at Marie's face 


turned toward that of Captain Moen's, she 
wondered with a strange, sweet wonder of the 
power of love. 

The next day as Ateha and Halvor were 
planning their departure from Skarpen, the mail 
steamer arrived, and on it was a package of 
letters for them. In the ever-welcome Aunt 
Maren's best room, they opened and read their 
letters. Here are some extracts from Atelia's: 

From Helga Nordo: **Our home, humble and 
poor as it is, is your home as long as you need 
it. We shall be very glad to see you again." 

From Uncle Sande: "You have proved your- 
self a true Daughter of the North. May the 
Lord bless and preserve you." 

From the President at Christiania: "I am 
very thankful to hear of your brave deeds and 
that you are all safe. Your country is today 
ringing with praise of your good work. Your 
brothers and sisters rejoice with you." 

From Froken Berg: *'I congratulate you. It 
was grand." 

From Frue Steen: "My heart is so full I can 
not write what I feel. My dear Atelia, try to 
forgive and forget the past, and how I have 
treated you. I hope you will grant this request 
of mine, that you will come to our home and 
let me try to make amends. Make our home 
your home — " 

Atelia could read no further because of the 
tears in her eyes. She lowered the letter and 


looked out of the window to hide her face from 
Halvor, who was not so intent on his own letter 
but that he saw what was going on with Atelia; 
and he was content to know that it was his 
mother's letter she was reading, and that the 
tears in the girl's eyes were tears of joy. After 
a moment when her vision became clear enough 
so that she could see Captain Moen and Marie 
out on the rocks together, she turned again to 
her letter. When she had finished it, she handed 
it to Halvor to read. 

**And you will accept mother's invitation?" 
he asked. 

"Yes, gladly, after such a letter." 

*1 am so glad, Atelia." 

'*So am I, Halvor." 

The next morning as Halvor and Atelia waved 
their farewells from the deck of the departing 
steamer, Atelia suddenly bethought herself of 
something she had forgotten. She leaned over 
the railing and motioned to her uncle. 

"Oh, Uncle," she shouted, "get a new lock for 
the one I broke on Anders' boat house, will you. 
I'll send you the price of a good one." 

The small crowd which had gathered to see 
them off cheered lustily at this, and kerchiefs 
and hats were waved until the steamer rounded 
the distant point of rocks. 

It was Christmas Eve at Strand. The harbor 
was frozen hard, and lay as still as the town 



and the hills under the snow. There was work 
for snow-shovelers in the streets even until af- 
ternoon, when Halvor Steen went to his office. 
All the morning he had been busy helping his 
mother and Atelia preparing for the company 
they were expecting that evening, and everything 
was in readiness, even to the bundle of oats tied 
to a stake in the yard for the birds' Christmas 

Invitations had been sent to a few friends 
for the Christmas gathering — Uncle Sande, 
Elder Larsen, Sister Nordo and Helga, Froken 
Berg, and the President at Christiania. With the 
exception of Uncle Sande and Froken Berg, these 
had accepted the invitation. Halvor had asked 
the President to come early and directly to his 
office in town, for he wished to have a talk with 
him. When Halvor arrived at the office in the 
middle of the afternoon, the President was al- 
ready there. The young man greeted his visitor 
warmly, took his top-coat and hat, and found 
a comfortable seat for him, then drew up his 
own chair. 

"I'm glad you came early," said Halvor. 
"Elder Larsen will be along later?" 

"Yes; he's busy with his leavetaking, but he'll 
not miss you." 

"As we haven't any too much time before we 
are expected at the house, I might as well come 
direct to the point." 

"Yes; certainly." 


"Fm a little bothered to know exactly what to 
do regarding joining the Church." 

"Do you mean the mode of procedure? Hasn't 
Elder Larsen— ?" 

"I don't mean that. I mean — Well, what will 
Atelia think if I am baptized now?" 

"She will rejoice and be exceeding glad, I 

"I don't know about that. Will she not think 
that I am doing it just for the sake of 
getting her?" 

The President looked keenly at the serious 
young man before him, then in slow, earnest 
words he asked: 

"And isn't it for her sake you will join the 

"No ; it will be for my soul's salvation — I want 
you to believe me, dear President — believe that 
I am absolutely honest in this," he went on 
earnestly. "I have studied the gospel; I have 
humbled myself and prayed for light and for 
strength to live up to the light which the Lord 
might send me. I have received a testimony, 
and I intend to do my part; but I have been 
fearful of what Atelia will think. I have been 
very careful, I might as well tell you, and have 
not pressed my wooing on her lately. There 
seems to have been a tacit understanding be- 
tween us, but I have said nothing to her about 
marriage. I believe now that I can appreciate 
what she has been trying to do — what she has 


done. I have obtained a glimpse of the nobihty 
of her soul, — and — " 

"And you love her more than ever?" 

"Yes, if that is possible." 

"My young brother, you missunderstood my 
question. I believe in you — have always believed 
in you, and I appreciate your confidence. If 
more young people would counsel with those who 
could advise them, they would be wise. But you 
said you will join the Church for your souFs 
salvation and not for Atelia." 

"Yes; I said that, and—" 

"Wait. Would your soul's salvation be com- 
plete without Ateha?" 

The young man paused before replying. A 
peculiar expression of face told the President 
of the thought within. 

"No," said Halvor; "but if it comes to a 
choice between two good things, I must choose 
that which comes first in the line of duty, and 
trust to the Lord to make up the rest." 

"Well spoken, Halvor Steen; and if I mistake 
not that is just what Atelia Heldman thinks. 
Her salvation will not be perfected without you, 
but she also has chosen the duty which lay clear 
before her and trusted to the Lord for the rest; 
but I want to tell you further, get rid of the 
thought that there is any wrong in including 
Atelia Heldman in the blessings which will come 
from obeying the gospel and becoming a member 
of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day 



Saints. If your motives were other than the 
pure ones you have expressed, there might be a 
question; but as I have said, I trust you, I 
believe in you — Now, is it not time to go? I 
want to see Atelia and have a talk with her 
myself — before you, young man, get a chance." 

"Just a moment more — just another question. 
Atelia is planning to go to Utah. She claims 
that she has nothing to hold her longer from 
Zion, although the last time she said that, she 
looked away from me. She has the insurance 
money from Heimstad and she has recently sold 
the 'Blue Bird' for a nice sum. Her plan is 
to take Sister Nordo and Helge, pay their pas- 
sage, and these three make the journey together. 
So far, I have not objected. She seems to have 
the spirit of gathering strongly upon her." 

"So will you, after your baptism. I'll talk to 
you further then." 

"After my baptism! yes, I wish I were bap- 
tized — Could it possibly be done before our little 
party this evening?" 

"We do not, as a rule, advise such haste." 

"It is not haste in my case." 

"No; I suppose not. Let me see. Is there a 
public bath open that we could use?" 


"Then telephone to the house for Elder Larsen. 
He ought to be there by this time." 

Elder Larsen was found and told to come 
immediately to the office, where he arrived in 


a few moments. The President explained, and 
soon, with a bundle under his arm, Halvor led 
the two others to the Baths, where a large 
enough private room was obtained. There Hal- 
vor was baptized by Elder Larsen, and at the 
water's edge he was confirmed a member of the 
Church. Then they went back to the office. The 
building was empty and still. It was Christ- 
mas Eve. 

Halvor dried and combed his hair. Within 
that small room where business was want to be 
the only concern, there brooded that evening 
a sweet peace of heart. **I feel so happy," said 
Halvor. 'Thank you, my dear friends." 

"And the Lord," added the President. 

"Yes; let us thank the Lord, too." 

They made an altar of the office desk, around 
which they kneeled in prayer, and the President 
carried their message of gratitude to the throne 
of grace in deeply impressive words. 

The short day had closed when they arrived 
at the Steen residence, so now the house was a 
blaze of light. In its day, before the father had 
died, this house had been one of the finest in 
the town ; and it was yet roomy and comfortable, 
well fitted for entertaining company. Sister 
Nordo and Helga had arrived, and even Uncle 
Sande, reconsidering his refusal, was there. 

Frue Steen looked enquiringly at Halvor when 
they entered, but he answered her cheerily, 
"Yes, mother, it's my fault that we are a little 


late. Then turning to the company, ''but here 
we all are, even to Uncle Sande. Mother has 
no doubt welcomed you, but let me add mine 
also. I hope you all are as happy as I am." 

In his handshaking, Halvor did not forget 
Atelia. He purposely left her to the last, and 
then as he held her hand a little longer than 
usual, his beaming face told her that something 
had happened. 'The President wishes to see 
you alone for a few moments," he said. "Take 
him into the library sometime before dinner." 

A little later Atelia managed to do this, 
wondering what it meant. "Halvor said you 
wanted to speak to me," she explained to the 

"Did he? Well, yes; but I thought I would 
have to race with him for the opportunity. I 
have good news to tell you." 

"Yes !" 

"Halvor has just been baptized." 

"Baptized !" 

"Less than two hours ago. He did it on my 
advice. That's why I sent for Elder Larsen. 
And now the particular thing I want to say to 
you is — trust him." 

"Trust him?" 

"Yes; he has been fearful that you might 
misunderstand his motives in this which he has 
done. He has wanted to join the Church for 
some time, but he has put it off, fearing you 
would think he did it solely for you.. I believe 


with the light and the testimony which he has, 
he would have joined the Church, even though 
there had been no Atelia Heldman waiting for 
him within. I believe this, and I want you to 
believe it also." 

"Yes, I will ; thank you," she almost whispered. 

'That's all; now, let us go back to our com- 
pany. No tears. Sister; put on your brightest 
face, for you have reasons to do so." 

Frue Steen had entertained, in her day, the 
"best society" in the land, and had done it in 
the most approved manner; but now she had 
listened to Halvor's suggestion, and the drinking 
of the many "skaals" in as many kinds of wines 
had been eliminated as not proper for this 
gathering; even coffee was not served. It was 
not easy for Frue Steen to be reconciled to these 
innovations, but she did it as gracefully as 

Abstinence from forbidden things did not 
lessen the good cheer of the evening. There was 
music and singing, and Uncle Sande told one of 
the Telemarken Christmas fairy tales. Then, of 
course, there was the dinner, the eating of which 
took a long time. Around the table, the talk 
led to the prospects of so many of the company 
soon going to America. Atelia spoke of America 
rather than Zion, thinking that the first term 
would not grate so much on the ears of her 
uncle and Frue Steen, but these two people sur- 
prised the others by saying that they saw no 


reason why every one present might not meet 
some day in a similar gathering in Utah. 

*'I say amen to that," answered the President. 

And now, well towards midnight, when all 
others had retired, Halvor and Atelia were alone. 
All the evening, they had communicated to each 
other only by look and touch the fact that they 
understood, and they were supremely happy 
in the knowledge. Now they might use words 
to explain anything which might be lacking, and 
yet words, fitting and expressive enough, were 
not easy to find. But they could sit close to- 
gether on the sofa, and he could press her braids 
close against his cheek; and in the shaded, mel- 
lowed lamp-light they could commune without 
words; for every barrier had now been removed 
between them; together they could go into the 
future, not only one in heart, but one in faith 
and the high purpose which the gospel had im- 
planted in their hearts. All the misunderstand- 
ings of the past had been cleared, not by many 
w^ords of theirs, but by the wonderful workings 
of the Lord — not the least instrument having 
been the kind Conference President. Oh, the 
joy of knowing each other as perfectly as im- 
perfect mortals can! 

"Atelia," he said softly, "you are mine now — 
you will be mine forever." 

"Yes, Halvor, I wanted to be with you forever 
— I wanted to be yours always — that's why, Hal- 
vor, that's why!" 



ARRIED, yesterday, in the Temple, 
Miss Atelia Heldman and Mr. Halvor 
Steen. The bride is the beautiful and 
talented young lady, who, some two 
years ago, captured a prize at a sailing of the 
Norwegian National Regatta. The bridegroom 
is a capable salesman of the Enterprise Mer- 
cantile Company." — Newspaper announcement. 

Atelia had been in Utah nearly a year, Halvor, 
six months. Atelia had made her home with 
Sister Nordo and Helga. Halvor and Atelia had 
looked the city over for a house, and they had 
found a six-roomed cottage well suited to their 
tastes and means. They could have begun with 
less, but Frue Steen was expected soon, and she 
would live with them. 

From the Temple, Halvor and Atelia w^ent to 
Sister Nordo's, where a few friends and supper 
were awaiting them. Among the visitors were 
Waldemar Larsen and his wife who had come 
from their home in Sanpete for the occasion. 
The Christiania Conference President, lately re- 
turned, was also present. There were many other 
dear friends of the newly-married couple who 
would receive invitations to visit them later, but 
both Halvor and Atelia had agreed that the day 
of their marriage was too sacred to be unduly 


and unnecessarily disturbed by a big and perhaps 
a noisy company. 

The evening passed pleasantly; the guests left 
early; and then Halvor and Atelia walked to 
their own home through the moonlight of a clear 
October night. 

Sister Nordo had been there before them. 
There was a smouldering fire in the grate, and 
a faint odor of "king's incense" pervaded the 
room, giving it an old-home touch of remem- 
brance. Halvor switched on the light, and when 
wraps had been put away and the coals in the 
grate made to blaze, he turned it off again. 
Then he drew up two easy chairs to the grate. 

"Here we are," said Halvor, "man and wife, 
by the home-fire. The open fire is a reversion 
to the times of our Viking forefathers, but it's 
a very fine coming back to first principles." 

Atelia did not reply. She appeared a little 
tired, as she rested her head on the back of the 
chair. The clock, a present from Helga, ticked 
cosily on the mantle. Above it on the wall hung 
the model from which the "Bue Bird" had been 
built. On the table, standing in the central 
place of honor and surrounded by a few simple 
wedding presents, the prize cup which Atelia had 
won, shone red from the fire. Back on the 
shadowed wall hung an oil painting of a Nor- 
wegian fjord, flanked on one side by a photo-* 
graph of Heimstad, and on the other by a por- 
trait of Captain Heldman. 


"Atelia," said Halvor, "come here to me." 
He held out his arms. She looked up, smiled, 
came to him, and nestled into his embrace. Then 
he went on talking quietly though somewhat 

"You are tired," he said. "We've had a long 

day We'll need to think a lot of what we've 

seen and heard. . . . From now on, we race in 

the same boat, if there is to be any racing 

I'm the captain, too, remember. . . . Elder Larsen 
is looking fine, isn't he? What a sweet wife 
he has! You remember he told us about her — 
the girl who was waiting for him .... That was 
a genuine Norwegian dinner Sister Nordo gave 
us, wasn't it, even to the raspberry pudding. . . . 

Did you read mother's letter? What did you 

make of Uncle Sande's last epistle — I believe he's 
converted. . . . Are you asleep?" 

He pushed the hair from his wife's forehead 
to see if she was awake. With wide-open eyes 
she was looking into the fire in the grate. 

"Wasn't it beautiful?" she said. 

"Wasn't what beautiful?" 

"The ceremony that made us husband and 
wife for time and eternity. It was worth all 
our waiting, wasn't it, to be able to begin right?" 

He raised her head and looked into her glowing 
eyes. Then he sealed his affirmation with a kiss. 





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